She Never Looked Back
by Batmanskipper
Summary: When Skipper told Marlene to forget him, for her own safety, he never expected how much it would hurt to see her with someone else. He probably would have been able to move on, but a death threat to Marlene's new husband sends him and the team to the house across the street. Lots of Skilene and some Dorwalski.
1. Mrs Marlene Fernandez

"Kowalski, did you manage to get all the data?" Skipper asked as the team, and ringtail, ran through the corridors of Blowhole's lair. Skipper had come up with the nickname 'ringtail' after seeing a photograph of the CEO and claiming that he resembled the ringtailed lemur. Until this point, operation: rescue the ringtail had been a success. Unfortunately, a group of lobsters taking an unauthorized coffee break spotted them, which would explain why they were running for their lives.

"Sorry sir. Only half. Blowhole shut down the system as soon as he realized I'd hacked it." Kowalski replied, "Um, Skipper. King's falling behind."

"Ringtail!" Skipper shouted, "Pick up the pace."

"But de royal feet are killing me!" Julian moaned his pace getting slower and slower.

"Well, thats too bad." Skipper replied sarcastically. Ringtail stopped in his tracks.

"I will not be doing any more of de running. De royal feet are far too important."

"The royal feet are gonna be dead if you don't get moving!" Skipper yelled at the still stationary Julian, "Kowalski, options." Kowalski pulled something out of Rico's backpack, set it behind Julian and switched it on.

"Feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet !" The device squealed, driving towards Julian.

"No! No! Do not touch de feet!" immediately, Julian picked up the pace tenfold.

"So the mission was a success." Rockgut looked up from the paper's he had been reviewing.

"Yes sir." Skipper replied. Rockgut pulled a file out of his desk drawer.

"He filed a complaint for assault of the feet." Rockgut chuckled, "He recommended that I have you general courts-martialed."

"It was necessary, sir."

"I know. To return to the mission, we analyzed the data Kowalski collected. It would seem Blowhole has a new favorite grudge against a well known Spanish guitarist named Antonio Fernandez and his family. He plans to assassinate them. Your job is to keep them safe."

"I can't, sir."

"Why not?"

"Because Antonio Fernandez is married to Marlene." Skipper replied, his eyes making a careful examination of his own shoes. Rockgut stood up from his desk and began to pace the room.

"Skipper, off the record, I wish I could grant your request. I understand that it would be... painful for you to accept this mission, due to the relationship between you and Mrs Fernandez. However, I'm going to have to force you to take it."

"Then I tender my resignation."

"Listen. The reason I can't give this job to anyone else is because your team is the only team who has ever succeed in thwarting Blowhole. If I send in a different team, there's a pretty good chance they, and the Fernandez family all end up dead. Thats a chance I can't take. So go ahead. Tender your resignation, and wait for the headlines saying something along the lines of: Spanish Guitarist Antonio Fernandez and his wife Marlene Fernandez found dead in family home."

"I warn you that my decisions may be biased by my feelings towards Mrs Fernandez."

"I'm counting on you to be professional."

Marlene was preparing lunch when she heard the doorbell ring. It must be the decorators. She opened the door.

"Good afternoon Mrs Fernandez." It was the decorators, but not the ones she was expecting.

"Skipper!?" Marlene simply stood there.

"Yes ma'am. HQ sent us. May we come in? Or would you prefer in I explained a top secret operation in the middle of the street." Marlene motioned for the team to enter. As soon as the door was shut skipper took command.

"Kowalski, scan for bugs and explosives."

"Skipper, whats going on here?" Marlene was pretty confused by the whole situation.

"Blowhole has something against your husband. He plans to kill both of you. We were sent to prevent that from happening." Skipper gave no indication as to his current emotions, but anyone who knew Skipper well would know he was in agony.

"Kowalski, situation analysis."

Skippah, are you okay?" Private asked. Skipper was reviewing the data Kowalski had taken, for the seventh time that night.

"I'm fine."

"Are you upset about Marlene?"

"What happened was for the best. As far as I'm concerned, I'm just another agent here to do my job." Suddenly Skipper stood up from his chair, "Kowalski. Over here. Now." Kowalski ran into the living room.

"Skipper?" Something about the leaders tone made Kowalski nervous.

"You didn't hack the mainframe, did you?"

"Of course I did!"

"No. You wouldn't have had time. You got it from someone on the inside. Who?"

"I promised not to mention my source's name."

"Kowalski, thats insubordination..."

"Its witness protection!" Kowalski interrupted.

"And what if your 'source' is a double agent!?"

"My source isn't a double agent."

"How do you know?"

"If I told you how I knew, it would also reveal my source's identity."

"It's Doris, isn't it?"

"No its not!"

"Its pretty obvious. Just admit it."

"Dammit, Skipper. Doris is dead," the room was silent, "Her grapple malfunctioned. She... She never made it out of the submarine." Skipper was stunned speechless.

"I'm sorry." Skipper offered his condolences.

"If you're done interrogating me, I have an invention to test." Kowalski stormed out of the room, trying to hide the tears in his eyes.

Kowalski locked the door of the lab and opened his laptop. He opened his email and started to type. He started to type:

_Skipper suspects nothing. Proceed with the plan._

Kowalski pressed send.


	2. Lies, and Even More Lies

Marlene knocked on the door. It had been a couple of days since the team bean watching the house. Private answered the door.

"Oh, hello Marlene. Care for a spot of tea?" Private welcomed her inside.

"I need to talk to Skipper." She stated bluntly.

"He's in the study." Private led Marlene to the aforementioned room. Private went to knock, but Marlene simply walked strait in.

"Skipper. We really need to talk."

"Ma'am, I'm filling out mission reports. Can this wait?" Skipper replied looking up from a gigantic pile of papers. He looked like he'd been up all night. The effect was amplified by the three empty coffee cups on his desk.

"Like hell it..."

"No language in front of Private, Mrs Fernandez," Skipper turned to the younger team member, "Private?"

"Yes, Skippah?."

"Forget whatever you heard."

"Yes sir. Should I forget the part where you told me to forget what I heard? Because then I wouldn't remember to forget, which doesn't..."

"Yes. Now, Private, would you mind stepping out for a few seconds?" Private left the room.

"Skipper, you are a terrible lier. Let me tell you this: I took you're advice. I met a nice man and I got married. I won't have you interfering..."

"I'm here on a mission, ma'am. I had tried to turn it down, but according to my senior officer, my team's the only one that can keep you and you're husband alive."

"Yeah right." Skipper passed her an official looking document, marked marked as Classified. Marlene examined it then passed it back.

"I guess I owe you an apology."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Still..."

"Mrs Fernandez, don't give yourself too much credit. I'm over you. In fact, I have a girlfriend. She's arriving tomorrow." Skipper lied, smiling smugly.

"Well, I'm glad that's cleared up. Still, I want you to explain the mission to Antonio." Marlene turned to leave.

"Ma'am, It's top secret." Marlene turned to face Skipper.

"Then I'll tell him, if you won't."

"You really like being kidnapped, don't you?" Skipper replied sarcastically, but they both knew his threats were groundless.

"I'm watching you Skipper. Don't mess things up." Marlene slammed the door. That last comment got Skipper worried. If Marlene was watching him, she would notice the fact his girlfriend hadn't arrived, and never would arrive.

"Kowalski, we have a problem.

"Well, you can either: tell Marlene the truth..." Kowalski began writing on his clipboard.

"Not an option." Skipper interrupted.

"Well, then I recommend you get someone to pretend to be your girlfriend."

"Do I know any girls in Spain who aren't enemy agents or seriously hate me for reasons that are in no way my fault?" Skipper asked. Kowalski thought for a few seconds.

"Nope. Do you know anyone who would be willing to... I know! Kitka! She'd be willing to fly half way around the world to get you out of a tough situation."

"You aren't implying that she still hasn't gotten over me?"

"Actually I was implying that she has the money and nothing better to do."

Skipper picked up the phone, "Hi, Kitka... board meeting?.. I'll be quick... I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend... you can!.. great!.. wait, you can't make it until Friday?.. I told Marlene you were arriving tomorrow... Telling her you missed your flight is the oldest excuse in the book... you cant make it any sooner?.. okay... I'll meet you at the airport." Skipper hung up, "Kowalski, we have another problem. You heard the conversation?"

"Everything. Well, we need someone to impersonate Kitka. They don't need to be absolutely perfect, just believable from a distance. All we need Marlene to see is her stepping out of the car. Then we can say she's not feeling well. That should keep Marlene quiet until Kitka can get here."

"Okay, Kowalski, I'm willing to forget that half life sentence of maintenance duty if you're willing to..."

"NO!... um... I'm 6" 3'. Kitka's not that tall." Kowalski replied, trying to hide his relief at finding a suitable excuse.

"Alright Rico, you're up." Rico ran screaming into another room. This was followed by a few small explosions. Rico obviously wasn't an option.

"Well, Kowalski. Its risky, but we'll just have to hope Marlene doesn't notice the hight difference." Skipper stated. Kowalski stumbled backwards in shock.

"Has anyone seen my Lunicorn?" Private poked his head around the door.

"How tall are you, Private?" Kowalski asked, smiling deviously.

"170cm, sir." Private replied. Why would Kowalski ask him for his height?

"Private, never use the metric system. Manfridi and Johnson used the metric system. One day they..." Skipper began to reminisce.

"Thats 5" 7', sir. Perfect match." Kowalski interrupted.

"Never interrupt a cautionary tail, Kowalski," Skipper turned to Private, "How do you feel about another solo mission..."

Once again Kowalski opened his laptop. He had a new email:

_Must talk soon. _

_D._


	3. They're Up To Something

Private took one step in his high heels before falling flat on his face.

"You know, Skipper, I don't think this is going to work. Maybe you should just tell Marlene..." Kowalski started.

"Don't give me excuses, soldier. Give me options, except for the ones that include telling the truth." Skipper interrupted. Private continued to practice walking across the room. After a while, he was able to go about the distance between the car and the door, with Kowalski's help. Rico couldn't stop himself from laughing when Private finally attempted to walk down the stairs. Rico had lent him Miss Perky's dress and shoes, Kowalski had created something in his lab that somewhat resembled hair, and Private had somehow managed to do his own makeup. The end result was actually not that bad.

* * *

Skipper had given Rockgut some excuse, getting him a nondescript car with license plates registered to Kitka. Skipper drove the car around the back door of their house, which was not visible from Marlene's. Skipper helped Private hobble to the passenger's seat of the car, before climbing in himself. Fortunately it was dark, and the street not very well lit. Skipper drove down the small roads behind the house until he came to a larger road, that led directly to the airport. Skipper turned into the lane that went in the direction he would be going in had he just come from the airport.

"Skippah, we're only trying to fool Marlene, not one of Blowhole's agents. Don't you think all these security precautions are a bit much?" Private asked. Skipper's detour had made him miss the start of the Lunicorn marathon and the cost of forging the plates, and buying the plane ticked had cost over $2,000.

"Private, I wouldn't belittle Marlene's skills. She did manage to defeat Kowalski with a frying pan and some super high tech, impossible to escape handcuffs." Skipper replied, keeping his eyes on the road as they approached the front door of their house. Skipper climbed out and opened the door for Private. Private began to step out of the car, but the hem of his dress caught on the seatbelt and he found himself falling face first into a rather large puddle of muddy water. Skipper offered him a hand up.

"Are you okay?" Marlene ran across the street carrying a bag of groceries. This was bad. Private could probably fool her from a distance, but if she got too close or heard Private speak, she'd know Private was not Kitka.

"Kowalski, Rico, we have a code blue. I repeat, code blue!" Skipper whispered urgently into a microphone hidden in the collar of his coat. Marlene was already half way across the street. Skipper panicked, "Kowalski, give me some options!"

"Um... Skipper... We didn't exactly plan for this." Kowalski replied. Marlene was only two meters away. They had to think of something fast.

"You're just trying to get me into a situation in which I will be forced to tell the truth." Skipper replied angrily.

"Well, thats a very harsh way to put it..."

Marlene was only a few meters away when Private suddenly had an idea. He shivered as if he was cold. Private whispered something to Skipper who removed his coat and draped it over Private, covering enough of his face that he wouldn't be recognized.

"Are you okay?" Marlene asked having just arrived on their side of the road.

"She's fine," Skipper replied, "Thanks for checking, though. I'm afraid she's had a rather long flight. Oh... Sorry. Kitka, this is Marlene. Marlene, Kitka."

"We've met before haven't we? Yes, I think I met you when you rescued Skipper from Clemson," Private nodded, "So, how was your flight?" Private broke into a fit of coughing to avoid answering the question. Skipper began to help him towards the front door.

"I'm afraid Kitka caught a pretty bad cold. I want to get her out of the rain as fast as possible."

"Oh here, let me help." Marlene put the shopping down and ran over to assist.

"NO!" Skipper exclaimed, causing Marlene to jump, "Um... She's pretty contagious right now. I don't want you getting sick too."

"Alright. I hope you get better. Why don't you come over for dinner some time? Do you think you'll be okay by Saturday?" Again Private broke into another spontaneous coughing fit.

"She said yes. See you Saturday." Kowalski opened the door and Skipper and Private disappeared inside.

* * *

Kowalski snuck out of his room. He checked that everyone else was asleep before he left the house. He walked down the street, until he came to a small park. Kowalski entered and sat down on one of the benches, pulling out a newspaper, despite the fact it was far too dark to read.

"Kowalski?" The dark silhouette of a woman approached him.

"Dalia," Kowalski stood up, pulling the other woman into an embrace, "Oh... Dalia. I've missed you so much."

"So have I. I'm sorry it took me so long to arrange a meeting, but Blowhole's been watching me like a hawk." The woman replied.

"Do you think he suspects?"

"No. I'm pretty sure he doesn't. He's just worried that I'll be recognized by one of you guys and I'll be forced to lead you to his hideout etc. etc."

"Absolutely. Everything is going to plan. I made sure Skipper read that paper on hacking complex DOLPHIN class computer systems so he'd be certain to realize that I couldn't have hacked the system that fast. What about Blowhole?"

"I place the virus in the system. Now he's certain you guys are on to him. He's speeding up the whole operation, just like you suspected. He's going to try and kill Fernandez and his wife next week. Sniper on the roof of the opposite building."

"Sounds a bit sloppy for him."

"He hasn't been the same since... since Doris..."

"I miss her too. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget her. It's eerie just how similar you two are, but... as much as I love you..."

"I understand. I can never replace Doris."

"Yeah. I'm glad you understand. I just feel so guilty. I keep remembering the last thing I said to her... before the grapple malfunctioned. When she asked if I still loved her, I told her... that the woman I loved died a long time ago. I'd do anything to take back those words, to bring her back." Dalia's phone beeped.

"Sorry, I have to get back to Blowhole. See you soon." Kowalski kissed her goodbye.

"Bye, Dalia." Dalia smiled, before they each turned and went their separate ways. Kowalski left through the gate he entered by. Dalia went towards the gate on the opposite side of the park.

"He didn't forget me..." She whispered to her self as soon as Kowalski was out of earshot.

* * *

"Skippah, what are you doing on Kowalski's computer?" Private looked at the screen. The window that was currently open revealed that Skipper was searching through the files on Kowalski's computer.

"Private, what are you doing up this late?" Skipper demanded. Private blushed guiltily. He'd been caught with his hands in the cookie jar.

"Well, I was watching the Lunicorn marathon.

"They don't put kids shows on this late at night."

"Kowalski taped it for me. I'm sorry Skippah, but I couldn't wait till tomorrow. It was too exciting!"

"I will never be able to understand whats so entertaining about those poorly animated unrealistic characters. Seriously, I haven't even seen one explosion on that show. Anyway, its one in the morning. Go to bed."

"Okay, Skippah." Private turned to leave.

"Private."

"Yes?"

"You didn't see anything."

After Private was gone, he closed off the window showing the list of Kowalski's encrypted files. Searching the computer was only his cover. On the window below, Skipper was running a tracking program. Kowalski's computer was the only one powerful enough to run this, and he knew if he simply asked permission, Kowalski would try to talk him out of what he was planning on doing.

"Target Svendsen, Hans: Located." The computer announced. Skipper looked around, luckily nobody had heard. He really should have remembered to switch the volume off, but that was a risky thing to do on Kowalski's computer, considering the fact that any button could be a secret self destruct button. Skipper smiled. He would finally get his revenge on that treacherous puffin.

**I know I've used the whole revenge on Hans thing one too many times, but it was the first thing I could think of. Don't worry, It's not the main plot.**


	4. Weaponized Florecent Orange Lederhosen

**I know this chapter has almost nothing to do with the story, but I just wanted to fit Julian in somewhere. Don't worry, the next chapter's going to have a lot more to do with the mystery.**

"Hello, glad you guys could make it." Marlene opened the door. It was Saturday already and the two had accepted Marlene's invitation to dinner.

"Its nice to see you again under less... unusual circumstances." Kitka replied as she entered.

"Ma'am." Was the only greeting Skipper would extend. Marlene shut the door.

"I'm sorry the place is a mess, but we were supposed to be redecorating. Its a shame the decorators didn't turn out to be who we thought..." She was interrupted by the sound of someone coming down the stairs.

"Hello, you must be Skipper and Kitka. Marlene's told me a lot about you," Antonio shook hands with Skipper.

"Just how much did she tell you..." Skipper asked warily.

"Skipper, can you forget you're a government agent just for a few hours?" Marlene pleaded.

Marlene had made a paella, which they all found quite delicious.

"So Marlene tells me you saved her life?" Antonio asked. He seemed like a nice guy, but then enemy agents always do.

"Thats classi..." Skipper began to reply but was interrupted by Marlene.

"He knows everything, Skipper. Its fine to tell him."

"Well, yes. She was held hostage by a man by the name of Clemson, in order to disrupt the efforts of my team to bring him to justice."

"Didn't you swap places with her to save her life?"

"Standard policy. It was my duty to prevent any harm from coming to a civilian. I was rescued though..." Skipper lent over to kiss Kitka, making sure Marlene had a good view.

* * *

"Private," Kowalski walked into the room, "Will you be able to keep a secret... from Skipper?"

"Well... doesn't that violate..?" Private replied warily.

"You see, me and Rico are going to have an all night movie night, and probably make a huge mess of the place... we were wondering if you'd be happy to turn a blind eye?" Kowalski interrupted.

"Do I have any choice?"

"Not really. If you say no I'll just amnesia spray you so it doesn't really make a difference."

* * *

"Maurice, why are we still lost?" Julian King asked.

"I don't know sir, but I'm just following MORT's directions." Maurice replied.

"I'm giving directions to de feet!" MORT replied.

"Well that explains things." Maurice rolled his eyes.

"MORT, I am blaming you for getting me stuck in these boringy suburbs," Julian turned to face the window, pouting, then froze as if he had heard something, "De royal booty senses a party coming from that house, right there. Julian pointed at the house the car had just driven past.

"I'm not seeing much of a party..." Maurice replied.

"Exactly. It is my duty, as king, to turn any party from totally boring party, to an absolutely awesome party. Now Maurice, take me to the party!" Maurice walked up to the house and rang the bell. Kowalski opened the door cautiously, hoping it wasn't Skipper.

"Maurice! Is Blowhole after you again? I'll contact headquarters..."

"Don't worry, Wally," Julian pushed in front of Maurice and into the house.

"Its Kowalski."

"Alright wall skis, we are here for de party. Now Maurice, this wont do..." The two other teammates walked into the room, just as Julian began to set up the living room for what he claimed was going to be an extremely wild party. Kowalski buried his face in his hands

"I'm so on maintenance duty."

* * *

Antonio finished the song. Marlene had insisted that he play a bit for the guests, and Kitka had also wanted to hear some Spanish guitar.

"Absolutely beautifully," Kitka applauded. Skipper smiled and clapped, but underneath he was jealous. He could see why Marlene had picked Antonio over him, even if he hadn't told her they couldn't be together.

"Thank you senorita Kitka." He smiled warmly and Marlene wrapped an arm around him. Skipper looked out the window. He couldn't take much more of this.

"What the hundred year old herring!" He exclaimed. Bright lights and a lot of noise were coming from the house across the street. What was the team doing? He stood up.

"Marlene, I'm sorry to cut my visit short, but something strange is going on in the HQ." Skipper explained.

"It's pretty obvious Skipper, the team's having a party. Its not really anything to worry about." Marlene replied.

"Yes it is. Have you ever seen Rico at a party? He completely loses it. One time, when we were in Madagascar, he managed to blow up half the temporary HQ!"

"Alright Skipper, but I want you to explain whats going on to Antonio first."

"Marlene, thats highly classified information..."

"Don't get paranoid now, Skipper. It might be highly classified, but its our lives." Skipper sat down.

* * *

Kowalski picked this part of the conversation up from the bug he had placed in Kitka's handbag. Kowalski turned to face the rest of the room. The entire house had become packed, since Julian had invited all his friends.

"Everyone out! We only have about ten minutes before Skipper comes back!" Kowalski screamed at the room. Everyone continued to dance, Rico setting off small controlled explosions.

"But Wally, we only just started?!" Julian shouted back.

"ITS KOWALSKI."

"Whatever, wally. De booty will not stop shaking until the sun rises. That is my royal decree!"

"Rico, please escort the guests out the back entrance." Rico pulled a flamethrower out of his backpack, which really shouldn't be able to fit in a bag so small, but nobody asked. Immediately everyone but Julian, Maurice and MORT were out the kitchen entrance. Rico turned to the remaining guests, growling menacingly.

"I refuse to stop de shaking of de booty!" Julian replied defiantly.

"Kaboom?" Rico asked. Kowalski looked at his watch.

"Fine. Just try not to do too much structural damage."

"Nothing short of lederhosen will move de royal me." Julian stood, or more accurately, danced his ground.

"Um... your majesty, I really don't think you should have said that." Maurice added. Kowalski smiled deviously.

"Rico, lederhosen us!"

"No! No! Dey are horrible."' Julian screamed as the Rico and Kowalski chased Julian and his friends about the house, wearing florescent orange lederhosen. Still Julian refused to leave. Private had been assigned to clean up the house as best as possible.

"Kowalski!" Private shouted as the team ran past, "Kowalski, how do I explain all the mess to Skippah? There's no possible way to clean it up in time." Julian ran screaming past Private.

"Well...um." Kowalski thought.

"Kaboom invention." Rico called over his shoulder.

"Thats a brilliant idea, Rico. I'll blow up one of Kowalski's inventions and make it look like an accident!" Private ran towards the lab.

"Not the inventions! Fabric of space time! Not the inventions!" Kowalski shouted, still chasing Julian with the lederhosen, but it was too late. Private dragged some gigantic, and probably very big invention into the living room, grabbed a stick of dynamite, which Rico readily provided and blew up the machine.

"NO! The x-ray coffee warmer took months to build!"

* * *

Private heard a knock at the door.

"He's coming, Kowalski. Get Julian upstairs!" Private shouted. Immediately Rico hit Julian over the head with a baseball bat, knocking him out. Why hadn't he though of that earlier? Maurice walked willingly out of the room, now that his king was unconscious. Kowalski grabbed MORT, who had immediately charged for the feet and switched him off. Private opened the door.

"Hello, Skippah." Private smiled.

"Private. Why are you wearing bright orange lederhosen?" Skipper asked. Private turned bright red.

"Um... We're testing weaponized florescent orange lederhosen." This wasn't entirely a lie, Private rationalized.

"Interesting, weaponized lederhosen," Skipper mused. He walked through the door, then just about collapsed from shock, "What the hot oil and bisquick happened here?!"

"Um... One of Kowalski's inventions exploded." Skipper looked at the semi destroyed machine.

"KOWALSKI!" Skipper screamed up the stairs.

"Yes, sir," Kowalski replied tentatively.

"Get down here!"

"Um... I'm kind of busy, sir."

"Feeeeeeeeeet!"

"What was that?" Skipper started to climb the stairs.

"Oh... I just said Seeeeeee. Because I told Kowalski this would happen." Private lied.

"Are you okay up there?" Skipper called up the stairs.

"Yes. Everything's fine. Don't bother coming up." Kowalski and Rico were now panicking. They couldn't exactly toss Julian's unconscious body out the window, as much as they wanted to.

"Kowalski. I don't know what you're doing, but I'm coming up. Now."


	5. The Plan

**Okay, back to the mystery. I was originally going to leave Doris dead, but I like Doris too, and I couldn't bring myself to kill the love of Kowalski's life. By the way, I have nothing against lederhosen, I took the idea from the episode The Hoboken Surprise.**

"Rico," Kowalski began to write franticly on his clipboard, "Hide them in the closet, under the bed. Just hide them somewhere!" Rico proceeded to stuff the unconscious Julian King, Maurice and MORT into the closet. Kowalski, as soon as Rico's back was turned, pulled out his cellphone and began to type:

_I've found an opportunity. Activating plan now._

_-K_

Send. Rico turned around, just as Kowalski stuffed the phone into his pocket. Skipper knocked on the door.

"Kowalski, open the door right now!" Skipper shouted. Kowalski opened the door, "Kowalski, once again you have destroyed most of the inside of our HQ with another one of your inventions! This place wasn't a rental! What is going on here?"

"Oh, absolutely nothing sir!" Kowalski backed towards the closet in which Julian was hidden. Suddenly, and purposely, he tripped over Rico's foot slamming into the closet, causing the door to open, its human, and electronic, contents spilling onto the floor.

"Owwwww! De royal face has been hurted! Who dares..." Julian looked up, noticing Skipper, "Oh, hello bossy penguin team guy." Julian smiled sheepishly.

"RINGTAIL! That code name is top secret, how did you find that out?" Skipper yelled. Julian king remained unfazed.

"Alright Skipper. I give up," Kowalski raised his hand in surrender, "I've been leaking classified information to the enemy."

* * *

Kowalski could hear low murmurs from the other room. He was tied to a chair in the living room/interrogation room. Julian King had been sent home. The other three members of the team were discussing his confession in the kitchen. This had been the plan. He hadn't really been passing information to the enemy, he just needed Skipper to think he had. Really, the only way off the team was through dishonorable discharge, and leaving the team was the only way he could be with Dalia. He knew Skipper. He knew that his leader would only allow him to leave the team if he was either a traitor or dead. Kowalski didn't like the idea of being the last option, so it had to become a 'traitor'. There was always the risk that Skipper would have him court martialed, or worse, but he was almost certain he would come up with some trumped up lesser crime to simply force him off the team.

* * *

"Kowalski, what are you trying to achieve by all this?" Skipper demanded.

"I've already confessed. I've been sending top secret information to the enemy. What more do you want?" Kowalski replied. Skipper shook his head.

"Kowalski, I've known you too long to not know that you're lying. What's the real reason for all this?"

"Skipper, I don't know what bizarre new interrogation method you're trying to use, but you won't get anything more out of me, simply because there is no more information to get!" Skipper walked over to the coffee table, on which was spread the contents of Kowalski's pockets and luggage, as well as his computer.

"Kowalski, remember that exercise Rockgut made you do in the last week of your assessment? The one where you had to plan and execute your own 'evil scheme' to test your ability to think like the enemy?" Kowalski gave no indication of a response, just like Skipper had taught him during anti interrogation training, "You managed to hijack the training base's power grid and hold it for six hours until Rockgut, for I'm sure was the first time in his life, gave you a complement."

"I don't see how this is relevant."

"Okay, do you remember that time we stole the mess hall's entire supply of caramel candies? It was so well planned that both of us were never caught."

"I was never caught, you were." Kowalski corrected. Skipper smiled. Kowalski realized his mistake. Damn that guy was good with interrogation. Skipper had used his weakness, arrogance, against him.

"Kowalski, the point I'm making is that its you aren't selling information to the enemy because it was far to easy to catch you. You'd do a much better job of covering your tracks and you'd never admit your guilt. Now tell me, what are you really doing?" Skipper was starting to get impatient. He slapped Kowalski across the face.

"Skipper, look at the evidence! You found two copies of a classified document in my jacket, my computer shows hundreds of files copied from the penguin division website, which are too classified even for you. I've even got a digital copy of you're log! There are suspicious emails sent to Doris' old email, which now goes to Blowhole. I managed to get all that data from Blowhole's computers in an impossible amount of time. What part of that is not incriminating?!"

"Kowalski, do you know just how idiotic you sound?" Skipper slammed his hand on the coffee table, "I'm not going to stop questioning you until you admit what you were really doing!"

"I AM GUILTY! Get over it and give me a dishonorable discharge already!"

* * *

Dalia was worried. Kowalski was supposed to meet her at the park over an hour ago. Something had gone wrong. Maybe Kowalski hadn't been able to convince Skipper of his guilt? Maybe Skipper hadn't reacted as Kowalski had assumed. Dalia left the park, running towards the house. When she got there, she went around to the back of the house and picked the lock on the back door.

* * *

Doris read through the emails again. Somebody was impersonating her, communicating with Kowalski via her old email address. They were talking about something called: the plan. It had been eight hours since she found that out. The first thing she had done was, find out Kowalski's location, despite the fact everyone thought she was dead she still had access to Blowhole's databases, and catch the next plane to Barcelona. When she arrived she went strait to the address the database had named as the team's location. When she arrived she walked up to the front door and knocked. There was no answer. The lights were on and she could here voices inside: "Kowalski, I will get the truth out of you..." She heard a voice she recognized as Skipper threaten. She removed a small vial of acid from her bag and applied the contents to the lock, which immediately began to erode away.

* * *

The intruder alarm on one of Kowalski's devices beeped.

"Sir, it would seem that the locks on both the front and back doors have been disabled." Kowalski reported out of sheer habit. The team snapped into perfect fighting stances, except for Kowalski, who did his best despite the fact he was still tied to the chair. The door, joining the living room to the kitchen opened.

"Kowalski!" Dalia ran towards the restrained man.

"Kowalski, I thought you said Doris was dead?" Skipper questioned, scrutinizing the woman Rico was currently preventing from untying Kowalski's bonds.

"Oh, thats not Doris, thats her twin sister Dalia," Kowalski replied. Dalia stopped struggling, tears now streaming down her face, "Dalia, whats wrong?"

"I'm so sorry Kowalski, I never should have hidden this from you, but I am Doris!"

"But... I saw Doris fall to her death..."

"I grabbed a ledge. I managed to get out of the submarine before it sunk."

"Why did you pretend to be Dalia?"

"Because... I was afraid. I was afraid that you wouldn't love me because of all the times I betrayed you. I figured my twin sister would have a better chance."

"Doris..." The other door into the living room burst open, interrupting Kowalski. The woman who entered looked identical to Dalia, or Doris as they now knew.

"Thats impossible!" she shouted.

"Why?" Skipper asked.

"Because I'm Doris!"


	6. Which Doris is Doris?

"So thats what 'the plan' was." Kowalski finished explaining the aforementioned plan to Skipper. The leader motioned for Rico to undo Kowalski's bonds.

"See, I knew I was right about you being up to something else!" Skipper replied triumphantly.

"So, which one of you is Doris?" Kowalski asked looking at the two women, who were completely identical.

"I am." They replied in unison, glaring at each other. Skipper raised an eyebrow.

"Please tell me the double Doris' weren't the result of another one of your insane cloning experiments." Skipper glanced at Kowalski suspiciously.

"I've never attempted to clone Doris." Kowalski replied.

"Really..."

"I'm telling the truth! I swear on Einstein's Special Theory of Relativity!"

"You, Doris no.1," Skipper pointed at the Doris who had, at first, called herself Dalia, "We want answers."

"Well, I've already told you why I was pretending to be Dalia, and Kowalski's told you about the plan..." Doris no.1 began. Skipper swung the light, previously being used to interrogate Kowalski, to shine on Doris no.1. She blinked for a few seconds, getting used to the brightness.

"Why don't you start with how you managed to survive the submarine wreck." Skipper prompted.

"Well, I think I've covered this before, but I grabbed a ledge. Luckily, the ledge used to be part of a room, which collapsed, so the door that had led out of the room remained. I climbed up and walked through the door, then looked around for an escape pod. I manged to launch it, but the engines were damaged by the debris from the explosions. I was knocked unconscious, and when I woke up, I had washed ashore on some beach. I was angry at Little B, sorry my brother's nickname, for leaving me behind so I didn't contact him. I was wandering around New England when I bumped into Kowalski. After we created 'the plan' I went back to Blowhole, as Dalia to steal the information."

"Any problems with that story?" Skipper asked. Kowalski shook his head.

"Sounds just like the kind of thing Doris would do." Kowalski replied.

"Okay, lets move on to Doris no.2" Skipper pointed at the Doris who had arrived through the front door.

"Well for one thing, when my grapple malfunctioned, instead of being dropped, I was catapulted into the ceiling,"

"You aren't the first, believe me" Skipper grumbled. Kowalski smiled sheepishly.

"Anyway, after I hit the ceiling I grabbed onto some of the exposed pipes. Little B continued on without me. He thought I'd made it to safety, and he couldn't hear my cries for help over the sound of the explosions. I climbed across the ceiling, using the pipes like monkey bars until I was directly above the exit. Then I manually unwound the grapple line and disconnected it from the firing mechanism. Then I secured it to one of the pipes and used it to climb down. After I was through the exit I went strait for the escape pods, but the last one had just been launched. Then I noticed some scuba gear the lobsters had left behind. I put it on and swam to the surface. After that, I went to one of the old safe houses. I was just beginning to recover, it honestly hadn't occurred to me to contact little B for help, when I checked my email. I realized someone had hijacked my account and was impersonating me. Obviously I assumed Kowalski was in danger so I flew out as fast as I could."

"Kowalski?" Skipper asked.

"That sounds just like Doris too."

"You really don't know your girlfriend very well."

"She's a complicated person."

"Right, I'll start by asking some questions only Doris would know the answers to. Doris no.1, is your brother really a doctor?" Kowalski asked.

"No. He was kicked out of medical school after three weeks." Doris no.1 replied.

"Blowhole is never going to hear the end of that!" Skipper smirked.

"Correct. Doris no.2, how many times have you betrayed me?"

"192," She replied.

"I can see this is about to go on for a very long time," Skipper interrupted, "Cut the game show and get me some results!" Kowalski thought for a moment.

"Blowhole was there. Wouldn't he know which is the real story?"

"So we just walk up to him and say "Hello evil arch nemesis, could you please tell me which one of these two young lady's is impersonating Doris so I can arrest them and get on with foiling your evil scheme?"" Skipper glared at Kowalski, "Maybe you didn't catch the 'evil arch nemesis' part, but that basically means we can't trust him."

"Well, thank you for being so helpful, Skipper." Kowalski defended sarcastically.

"Maybe it's just because you're such a bad investigator. I bet you wouldn't last five minutes..."

"Egad, thats it!" Kowalski exclaimed.

"What? Everyone knows you're only good at the forensic stuff." Skipper replied, slightly mystified by Kowalski's sudden outburst. Kowalski smiled.

"Well Skipper, it would seem I won the bet that Doris would escape from the sinking submarine. Come on Skipper, pay up."

"I never bet you that..."

"Howdareyou..." Doris no.2 screamed before walking right across the room and slapping Kowalski across the face. The bet seemed to have absolutely no effect on Doris no.1.

"Well, Skipper, now we know the real Doris is Doris no.2. Doris hates it when I make any kind of wager concerning our relationship," Kowalski rubbed the side of his face that had been slapped as he attempted to shout over Doris' lecture, "The only question is: who is the other Doris?"

"It's no 'great mystery', Kowalski. She's obviously one of Blowhole's agents. She must have known that the real Doris missed the last escape pod so used that to make it seem as though Doris no.2 was making up her story on the spot," Skipper concluded, pacing the room, "Kowalski, phone headquarters and tell them to pick up an enemy agent."

"Skippah?" Private had been lost in thought for several minutes.

"Yes Private?"

"Maybe they're both telling the truth? I mean, Doris did see the escape pod leave at around the same time that the Doris who isn't Doris' story tells us. We would be able to confirm that the escape pod was deployed by checking the wreck." Private theorized.

"Private, you've overlooked one tiny little fact," Skipper replied sarcastically, still pacing the room like a TV detective, "There's only one Doris."

"I'm coming to that," Private looked at Doris no.2, "Do you really have a twin sister named Dalia?" Doris no. 2 looked slightly confused. In fact, everyone but Private looked very confused.

"Yes." Doris no.2 replied.

"Is she an identical twin?"

"Yes."

"Was she in the submarine at the time of the crash?"

"Yes, she was found just off the coast in a damaged escape pod."

"Is there any way to tell her apart from you?"

"Yes, she has a small scar on the back of her neck." Doris no.1 lifted her hair, feeling the back of her neck. There was a scar.

"I... I don't understand it!" Doris no.1, now revealed to be Dalia exclaimed, "I know I'm Doris! I have memories, I..." Skipper interrupted her.

"Well, I knew that all along. I just wanted to see if Private could solve the mystery," Kowalski raised an eyebrow but said nothing to contradict Skipper's statement, "So why does Dalia think she's Doris?" Kowalski considered Skipper's question for a few seconds.

"I think I can answer that," Kowalski replied, "Dalia was very close to her sister. Doris' supposed death would have been... crushing, to use layman terms. In order to cope, her mind denied the fact that Doris had died, and she convinced herself, that she was Doris." Skipper nodded. He didn't understand all the crazy medical stuff, but it sounded convincing.

"'ow ee answer quest'on?" Rico asked.

"Good question, Rico," Kowalski looked back at his clipboard, "She was able to answer my questions because Doris had told her many of her close secrets, via something known as girl talk AKA gossip.." There was a collective "ah..." As the metaphorical puzzle pieces were put together.


	7. The Next Flight To New York

"Kitka, I want answers." Skipper demanded, walking into the living room. Kitka was seated on the sofa, watching some corny sitcom that she obviously wasn't interested in.

"What do you mean?" Kitka's eyes never moved from the television.

"You know what I mean. You haven't let me out of your sight all week. Has HQ ordered you to follow me or something?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't hear you over the TV." Skipper stormed across the room, snatched the remote from her hand and switched the television off.

"I was watching that...!"

"No you weren't. I know you're only sitting there to make sure I can't get out that door without you knowing." Kitka sighed.

"Would you pass me my mirror?"

"For Mackerel's sake!..." Skipper picked up the aforesaid object and held it out to her. Before he knew what was happening Kitka had grabbed his arm, pulled him towards her on to the sofa and kissed him hard on the lips. Skipper pulled away almost immediately, stumbling backwards several steps, "Kitka!"

"I love you, Skipper. Can't you see that?" She replied, her voice cracking with emotion.

"So you've been following me around because you're jealous of Marlene? Kitka, I'm sorry but there's nothing between us. There hasn't been for over five years."

"Then you're wrong! I was always waiting for you to come back. Skipper, I never gave up on us..."

"Kitka, there's a reason we decided to see other people. We just don't... Work well together," He tossed her his phone, "Call your pilot. You're going home."

"First Doris and now me? Not to mention Cupid, Lola, Shelly, the list goes on forever. Are you determined to ruin the love life's of everyone around you? You even sent Marlene away!"

"In Marlene's case it was for her own good. Doris is Blowhole's sister and has betrayed Kowalski more times than I've kept count, Dalia is mentally unstable, Lola was... Unpredictable, Shelly was obsessive and extremely annoying, and Cupid... Private's far too young for a girlfriend."

"Always doing 'what's for their own good'. Always the 'right' way. I don't suppose you've ever considered being happy?" Kitka picked up the phone and began to type in her pilot's number, "Hello?.. Ready the plane... I leave for New York in six hours... Thank you, Roderick." She tossed Skipper the phone.

"Thanks."

"You know, if you keep driving people away like that, one day they'll stop coming back."

* * *

Marlene finished the batch of cookies. They smelled delicious. She was just putting them in a tin when Private ran passed, probably on some errand for Skipper. They hadn't bothered to put him in school this time.

"Private!" She shouted out of the kitchen window. Private stopped and ran over.

"Is something wrong?" He asked.

"No nothing's wrong, I just wanted to ask if you wanted a cookie." She held a plate of the freshly baked cookies out of the opened window.

"Why thank you, Marlene," Private took a cookie and began to politely nibble it.

"I haven't seen you guys much recently. How's the mission?"

"Blowhole still hasn't made a move. Kowalski found his long lost girlfriend though."

"Doris?"

"How do you know?"

"He muttered something about her while he was unconscious. I'll give you a couple of cookies to give her?"

"She's gone actually. Skipper put her and her twin sister Dalia on the first transport to HQ he could get. Kowalski's pretty upset about it, but they're well... Security risks, being Blowhole's sisters." Marlene shook her head sadly. When it came to matters of the heart, Skipper wasn't exactly sympathetic.

"One second."

After a few minutes Marlene emerged from the front door with a tin full of cookies. She walked over to the house across the street, Private following. Private knocked on the door. Kowalski answered. It was obvious from the amount of soot covering his face and the fact that the his hair and shirt were, well... smoldering, that he had recently blown up yet another invention.

"Hi, Marlene." Kowalski greeted, opening the door for Private and their guest. Marlene passed him the tin.

"I heard about Doris... I'm really sorry it didn't work out." Kowalski looked Private accusingly.

"Private, did you..."

"Sorry, K'walski." Private replied sheepishly. Kowalski smacked him across the face. Marlene flinched.

"I really wish you guys wouldn't do that." She murmured.

"Sorry?" Kowalski finally drawing his attention from the apologizing child.

"Oh, nothing. Can I talk to Skipper?"

"Now isn't really a good time. He just got a call from HQ. Special mission, need to know, classified, y'know." Kowalski looked behind him to see Skipper barging down the stairs carrying a very heavy looking backpack.

"Ma'am." He nodded to Marlene before rushing past her and into the car.

"Where are you going?" Marlene shouted after him as he jumped into the bright pink convertible."

"That's classified!" He shouted as drove off, at what seemed like 50 times the speed limit.

"Skipper's log, It's taken months of planning, tracking, two action request forms and other paperwork, to find him, but the target has been acquired. I'm about to... *Smash!* What the..."


	8. The Inescapable Handcuffs

"You do realize that was my only radio." Skipper glared at the woman standing in front of him, her boot on the now destroyed device.

"Well, I'm sorry but didn't realize it was a radio. I might have if you hadn't disguised it as a tape recorder." She replied sarcastically. Skipper stood up.

"It was the only way to keep Kowalski from 'improving' it. What do you want, Marlene?"

"I won't let you kill him." Marlene replied bluntly.

"What do you mean? I'm on a top secret mission." Marlene shook her head. Did he really think she wouldn't work it out?

"For a top agent you're a pretty bad liar. Its pretty obvious."

"So how did you uncover my alleged crime?"

"Easy. Private told Kowalski that you had been searching the files on his computer even though you told him not to. He thought it was okay to tell since Kowalski was no longer a suspected Blowhole agent. Anyway, Kowalski searched the computer and found none of the files had been opened."

"I'm a good hacker."

"We both know that's not true. Kowalski checked which programs had been running at the time. It was a tracking program. Kowalski assumed you were just trying to find Blowhole. However, if you really were trying to find Blowhole you would have asked Kowalski to do it."

"I could have been trying to find someone in connection with a top secret mission, too secret to tell them about. How do you know I'm not really on a solo mission... not that I'm not, but hypothetically"

"You never tell the team when you go on a solo mission. You just disappear. You specifically told the team you were going on a solo mission so they wouldn't look for you."

"Okay, so what am I doing?"

"You were tracking Hans, and now you intend to kill him."

"You've never had any qualms about killing before."

"I don't mind if its in self defense, or if it's absolutely necessary to save someone else, but to shoot them in the back Isn't exactly sporting."

"He's eluded me for five years. He has to pay for what he did in Denmark!" Skipper began to walk towards the door, "You're going home."

"No I'm not," Skipper turned around. Marlene hadn't moved, "I won't leave until you do, and I'll specifically tell the rest of the team not to let you out of their sight."

"Oh wonderful," Skipper replied sarcastically, "Another woman who wants me followed."

"I mean it." Skipper had to admit she was pretty cute when she was stubbornly standing her ground. No. Stop. Don't go there. She's married. Skipper marched back over to her, grabbed her by the wrist and began to force her towards the door.

"You're going home."

Kitka sat at the top of nearby building, watching the scene unfolding below through a pair of worn binoculars. She had been following Skipper since she had supposedly gotten on the plane. First Skipper had entered, then Marlene. It was obvious why they were meeting. No wonder Skipper hadn't been interested in her. He was in love with Marlene. Kitka looked again. Skipper and Marlene seemed to be... Kissing? Kitka slammed the binoculars onto the ledge beside her, so hard one of the lenses cracked.

"Just stop it Marlene. Face it, there's nothing you can do to stop me." Skipper growled as he dragged her towards the door.

"I guess so." Marlene stopped struggling, but there was something suspicious about her smile. Click. Skipper looked down at his wrist. Marlene had handcuffed him to her.

"Marlene what are you..."

"Skipper, you can't kill Hans if you can't aim a gun, something you can't do if I'm continuously knocking it out of your hand. You can't get rid of me now," Marlene took something out of her pocket, "You know, I stole these from Kowalski's lab when he wasn't looking." She tossed the key out of the window.

"So now I'm stuck with you forever. I don't think Antonio's going to be particularly happy about that."

"Don't worry, Kowalski has a master key."

"Let me guess, I need to go back to the HQ to get it. Well, Marlene, if you thought that would stop me, you're wrong. I'm going through with this chained to you or not."

"I think you forgot the part where I'd do anything I can to stop you."

"You do anything to stop me and I knock you out." Marlene froze. She hadn't thought about that. Skipper's hand held her's as he walked back towards the window.

"Getting pretty friendly are we?" Marlene teased. Skipper turned away, hiding the fact he had just turned bright red. He hadn't noticed he was holding her hand, it just seemed... Natural.

"Marlene, if you leave your wrist rubbing against the handcuffs it will start to hurt. I'm minimizing the irritation as best I can. Don't get any ideas."

Suddenly a hand shot out from the darkness. Click. Skipper looked behind him.

"Oh...tuna."

"That's right, Skipper. You aren't getting away from me that easily. I know about you and Marlene." Kitka stated, her voice almost cracking with emotion, "I'm staying with you and maybe one day you'll learn to like me." Kitka obviously wasn't thinking strait.

"Knowing my luck you stole them from Kowalski's lab and just happened to have lost the key." Skipper didn't even bother to look.

Skipper carefully removed the panel of glass from the skylight, leaving a hole large enough for a person to fit through. He had attempted to go through with his original plan, but found every time he tried to aim, Marlene would knock the gun out of his hands. She had realized pretty early on that Skipper's threat to knock her out was a bluff.

"Alright, ladies first." Skipper secured one end of a rope to a steam vent near the skylight and tossed the other end through the hole. He motioned for Marlene to climb down.

"Why does she get to go first?" Kitka protested.

"I picked randomly. I don't care who goes first, but considering my current position it has to be one of you." Skipper held up his manacled hands.

"Nothing is random Skipper. You picked her because you love her."

"No, I picked her randomly. Now shut up and either climb down yourself or let Marlene." Kitka walked towards the rope. Kitka held her hand out.

"I want to go first."

"No I'm going first." Marlene replied. It was obvious that the two women considered going first indicated that they were Skipper's favorite, something neither would give up.

"Why can't I go first?"

"Because he picked me first?"

"It doesn't matter."

"So why don't you let me go first, then?"

"Please tell me we aren't arguing about who gets to go down the ladder first?" Skipper rolled his eyes, "I was under the impression we were all older than three." Simultaneously both women slapped him, "What was that for!?"

Skipper peered around the door frame and into the room Hans was in. The target in question was pacing the room, probably scheming or thinking about hybrid coffee machine/freeze rays. Skipper stepped into the room.

"Ah, Skippar, my old frenemy." Hans turned to face him. Skipper reached into his pocket. His hand searched for the gun. It was gone. He looked at Marlene. She was smiling with mock innocence. He wasn't going to get the gun back without revealing the fact that he was currently unarmed to Hans. He felt about his pocket again. There was a pen. That would do.

Skipper pushed the pen against the edge of his pocket, making it seem as if he was holding a concealed gun. Hans gave him a funny look.

"What's with the cloak and dagger, Skippar?" Hans asked, "Trying to hide the dark side of search and destroy from the ladies?"

"No! It's just that... Um... You have cameras all through there room. My gut tells me you have a minion watching them. If I draw a gun, they sound the alarm and me and my friends are as good as dead. Now you're going to walk out of the room, willingly, or I'm going to shoot." Hans considered this for a few seconds then began to walk towards Skipper, giving no indication of the fact he believed he was at gun point as he was instructed.

"You do know he hasn't really got a gun."

**This chapter was based on an old Hitchcock film called The Thirty Nine Steps (one of my favorite films!)**


	9. When Seeking Revenge, Dig Two Graves

**She Never Looked Back is officially off hiatus! I had the worst case of writer's block. Anyway, now I'm back and have solid plans for this story, still, if you have any idea's I'd love to write them in. Anyway, I should be up dating at least every second day from now on, probably one a day. Keep reviewing (I love reviews!) and check out my poll, I'd love to have your input on what my next story should be.**

Skipper kept his eyes fixed on Hans. He had to think of something now, or at least buy some time until he could.

"Skippar, you sly dog," Hans chuckled, smiling triumphantly, "Trying to threaten me without a gun? Tisk tisk."

"How do you know I'm unarmed? She could have been lying." Skipper tried to disguise the fear in his voice. He doubted he could bluff his way out of it, but it would at least buy him some time.

"Really, Skippar?" True to his guess, it didn't work. Hans reached over to press the button to summon his minions, "You know, it almost seems a shame to kill you after all these years," Hans smiled triumphantly, "Almost."

"Wait!"

"I am beginning to tire of your attempts to delay what is obviously inevitable. What do you want?"

"A fish fight. For old times' sake."

"Of course, how stupid of me," Hans pressed a button on his desk and a panel in the wall opened revealing a refrigerated tray containing several types of fish wrapped in barbed wire, "Take your pick: mackerel, kipper, salmon, flounder…" Fish fighting was a strange tradition he and Hans had developed over the various times the two had tried to kill each other. It was similar to sword fighting, but done with fish wrapped in barbed wire, coated with a fast acting and extremely deadly poison.

"Salmon." Skipper didn't think he could win with the restriction's placed on his movement by his unique position, but he just needed to get Hans closer.

"Ah yes, a gentleman's weapon." Hans picked up the tray and held it out to Skipper. Click click. Hans froze, "That wasn't…"

"The sound of a DX22 JulianTech Miniature Freeze Ray's safety catch being switched off? Yes, it was." Skipper replied confidently. Hans could feel the cold barrel pressing against his ribs, "Sorry Hans, but I just needed to get you close enough to prove it without showing my weapon, as naturally, your 'friends' would be on me in a matter of seconds. Now, are you going to come quietly?" Hans nodded rigidly, placing the tray on the floor. Skipper motioned for him to kick it out of reach. Hans did as he was instructed, "Now start walking towards the door." To this, Hans also complied.

They were half way across the room when Hans stopped. "Do you want to walk, or should I shoot?" Skipper threatened. Hans just smiled.

"Do you remember the one of the first times we fought? It was in Manila?" Hans asked. Skipper tensed. Damn.

"Yes. You trapped Manfridi and Johnson in the escape tunnels under the base, cut them into a few thousand pieces, taking special care to dice the heart and oesophagus extra fine, then sent them back to me in a manila envelope." Skipper replied. Marlene did her best to keep her dinner down.

"I don't remember doing that… I wish I had. What I was trying to say was, do you remember the last time you got caught without a weapon? Don't try and deny it, because I do. You used Kowalski's clipboard to make a sound not unlike a D15 JulianTech Laser Pistol. What are you using this time, Skippar?" Hans was definitely enjoying this.

"A Pen. Kowalski once told me that clicking it made a sound similar to a DX22." Skipper growled.

"Am I correct in assuming that you still want that fish fight?" Hans changed the topic, knowing he'd won.

"No. Listen to me Hans, let the girls go. They have nothing to do with this. I don't care if or how you kill me, let them go."

"But why don't you want to fish fight?" Hans asked, disappointed.

"Because I don't want them to get hurt. You might accidentally scratch them by mistake. Now, will you promise to let them go."

"If my intel is correct, those handcuffs are unbreakable. How am I supposed to let them go? Killing you without a fish fight is simply not an option."

"Cut my hands off. Listen Hans, I'll fish fight with you if you promise to let them go." Skipper replied. He was starting to get desperate.

"But how can you fish fight with no hands? I'm sorry Skipper, but you will have to take your chances. I promise that if you lose I will release them. If I lose, I am already dead and so you are free anyway." Skipper considered this for a few seconds.

"Fine, I'll do it."

Once again Hans held out the tray of fish. Skipper took a salmon. Hans looked down at the tray to pick his own fish. He wasn't worried about Skipper attacking while his guard was down. It was dishonourable to begin fighting before the salute. Skipper would never do that. There, he was wrong. Suddenly Skipper lunged forward, slashing the barbed wire across his enemy's throat. Hans froze, choking like a fish out of water as the blood poured from the wound. Then he dropped to the floor, blood pooling around him.

"Skipper… he… he was unarmed… how could you…" Marlene gasped.

"Fighting 101, Hans. Never drop you guard," Kitka smirked, "Oh well. Do you want me to help with the clean-up, Skipper?... Skipper?" Skipper was staring at the body, the fish still in his hand. He closed his eyes taking a deep breath. The world around him seemed to spin. He dropped to his knees.

"I…"

"Come on Skipper, Hans had it coming to him. Don't tell me you're starting to feel guilty…" Kitka teased. Skipper slowly turned his head to look at her.

"You don't get it, do you?" He choked. It wasn't the feelings that were painful, he'd killed countless times before, but the lack of them. Kitka placed an arm around him.

"Really, Darling, my plane's waiting at the airport. We can go anywhere we…" Kitka never finished her sentence as Marlene had hit her over the head with the tray. She collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

"Sorry Skipper, but it had to be done," She sat down, wrapping an arm around the catatonic soldier.

"I… I…what I don't understand is… I thought it wouldn't hurt after… after he was dead," Skipper dropped the deadly fish, "I…thought, I would stop missing them."

"But nothing changed, did it?"

"No. Nothing changed. Why…" Marlene pulled him into a hug.

"Shhh we'll talk about it later, you have to get out of here." Marlene was right, already they could here footsteps running down the halls. Skipper stood up, only to be slapped across the face by Kitka.

"So that's why you weren't interested in me. You were…"

"Shut up and start running." Skipper ordered.

* * *

"You know, I was considering the option of starting a band," Kowalski mused. The three penguins were seated in the living room, Kowalski and Rico playing a game of chess, Private flipping through channels, looking for something relatively non-violent.

"Why don't you?" Private asked, "I'd like to be part of a band."

"'ee too." Rico grunted.

"Well, um, I haven't thought of a name yet." Kowalski added. There was the sound of a key turning in the lock and Skipper walked in.

"How about Kowalski and the inescapable handcuffs…"

"That sounds like a good name." Kowalski complemented.

"…get slapped into next week!" Skipper stepped forward revealing the two woman he was chained to, both of which were glaring fiercely at each other.

"Not good." Kowalski squeaked.


	10. Repercussions of Revenge

"What do you mean I was making things worse? You were giving him a conscience!" Kitka shouted as Kowalski searched the lab for the keys to the handcuffs, all the time watching Skipper cautiously, lest he attempt a surprise attack. Not that he'd blame him.

"I was under the impression a conscience was the only thing that makes us more than a robot." Marlene replied.

"Well, technically…" Kowalski began to explain.

"Not the right time, Kowalski." The two woman interrupted. Kowalski went back to searching for the key.

"A conscience gets you killed in this kind of work. Anyway, it's your fault we're in this mess." Kitka replied.

"My fault?! Listen here, sister…"

"I found it!" Skipper snatched the keys out of Kowalski's hand, unlocking the handcuffs.

"Rico, in here." Skipper shouted. The weapons expert entered the lab, "Make sure Kitka gets on her plane." Kitka glared at him, but knew better than to mess with Rico, and followed him out of the room towards the door.

* * *

Skipper had remained sitting, motionless, one of the chairs in Kowalski's lab, since the hand cuffs were removed. Kowalski watched his leader with concern. Skipper didn't normally return from a mission like this, even when he had been mind jacked. Still, knowing Skipper, there was nothing he could possible do to alleviate that pain.

"I'm… going to cook dinner." He excused himself from the room. If anyone had a chance of bringing Skipper out of his dark mood, it was Marlene.

"If it was any other situation, I would have already said 'I told you so'," Marlene's attempt to break the silence seemed to have no effect on Skipper, "Skipper… I'm sorry." Marlene reached into her pocket, removing the gun she had taken from Skipper during the fight with Hans, "I… I did the wrong thing. I never realised, that Hans would actually try to kill us." Skipper accepted the gun, placing it on the table behind him. It was a simple gesture, but it was all she could do to show him she trusted him. After a few seconds, Skipper finally looked up.

"You never realised Hans would actually try to kill us. Manfridi and Johnson said something like that. The next time I saw them, all that was left was their charred remains. We had to identify them using their dental records," Skipper's voice remained bland and emotionless, "At least that's how I remember it now. It keeps changing. Same with Denmark."

"I…"

"All I remember about Manfridi and Johnson, is that they were my best friends. I don't remember their favourite food, or the peanut butter winkies we were apparently notorious for frequently stealing from the mess hall. I only know about the winkies because my commanding officer told me."

"So Hans deserved to pay with his life?"

"Is there anything else he could pay with?"

"Are you sure he was responsible for…"

"No, I'm not sure. I know he was responsible for Denmark. That, or so I thought an hour ago, was enough."

"What do you think now?"

"I don't know. If I sent him to HQ, they'd do worse than kill him. Then again, he might strike himself a plea bargain and get out tomorrow." Skipper stood up and began to pace the room, "I think you should head home before Antonio gets worried. I don't want the police called into this."

"You mean you don't want to be booked with murder."

"I'd only have to make one call to my boss and I'd be out. It doesn't count as murder if it war. I just don't want the paperwork." Skipper was now facing the wall, his back to her. It was obviously a defensive measure. Skipper never liked to seem week. Marlene stood up and walked over to him. The two stood in silence, examining the various burn marks and stains on the wall.

"So what makes you better than Hans." Skipper turned to face her, outraged.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about? What you just said, about Hans having to pay for Manfridi and Johnson's death. I'm guessing Hans' loved ones would say the same thing about you."

"He was a murderer. He had to pay."

"The same could be said about you." Skipper's eyes burned with fury for a few seconds, then the fire died down. She had a point. Skipper picked up the gun and tossed it to her.

"So I deserve to pay. Shoot me."

"Which would make me just as guilty as you. Which would make your team also guilty, since they'd want revenge for what I did. It never stops."

"Alright, give me the gun."

"That's not the point. My point is, you can stop all this by simply not seeking revenge. It doesn't make you any less guilty, but it saves everyone around you from ending up in your position. Think about it." Marlene left the room, being careful to take the gun with her.

* * *

"Nap time is over, boys." Skipper shouted, up the stairs. In minutes all the members of the team were dressed in training gear, standing to attention in front of their leader. Skipper turned around, leaving his cup of coffee behind on the kitchen counter, "Just cause I managed to get myself handcuffed to a couple of girls a few days ago doesn't mean Monday morning 0500 early training doesn't exist."

"But, Skippah, It's 0400." Private stifled a yawn.

"I was getting to that. Now, according to our intel, Blowhole is due to attack sometime this week."

"Skipper, there is definitely a lack of relevance between that statement and private's query." Kowalski interrupted. Skipper slapped him across the face.

"Can I tell this my own way? Thank you. Now, if we're going up against blowhole, we need to be at our best," Without warning, Skipper threw a punch at Rico, catching him painfully in the jaw. Rico stumbled backward.

"'eh! Wha' aa for?"

"Two weeks ago you would have blocked that easily. A week before that, you would have countered. I'm beginning to think that you're taking your civilian cover a bit too seriously. You're forgetting that we're soldiers."

"Skipper, it's four in the morning, you can't expect us to be at our best." Kowalski complained.

"So you're saying that Blowhole will wait until we've all had a good night's sleep, had breakfast and watched a bit of TV before he attacks. I don't think so. Catch," skipper tossed each member of the team a knapsack filled with large rocks, "You're doing a ten mile run wearing these."

* * *

Rico dragged himself into the kitchen. His whole body ached. After the ten mile run, Skipper had run them through full combat drill, then sparring. Skipper had a point, they weren't in the best shape, but a ten mile run was not something Rico enjoyed. Skipper walked up to the coffee machine, intending to make himself another cup of coffee.

"Dammit!" Skipper heard Kowalski shout from the lab. This was followed by a loud explosion.

"Better see what he's done now," Skipper grumbled, "If you're making yourself a cup of Joe, make me one too. I'll shout if the building's structurally unstable." Rico nodded. He knew Skipper well enough to know that wasn't a question, it was an order. Rico growled. As if Skipper hadn't already given him a tough enough time this morning, now he had to make him coffee. Rico set about the mundane task, attempting to distract himself from his annoyance with thoughts of explosions and mass destruction, when he noticed the fish. Rico smiled. He knew he'd get in big trouble with this but, what the mackerel, it would be worth it.

* * *

Rico handed Skipper his 'cup of Joe' before sitting down next to Kowalski and Private. Skipper took a sip then nodded his approval. Rico leaned over whispering something to Private. He turned white as a sheet. He then whispered it to Kowalski who clamped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud.

"You make a pretty decent cup of Joe, Rico." Skipper complemented. Kowalski and Rico couldn't hold themselves back any longer.

"What's so funny?" Skipper asked, mystified. Kowalski and Rico composed themselves.

"I… just told Rico a joke I'd heard. On TV. Sir." Kowalski explained.

"Kaboom." Rico elaborated. Skipper scrutinised them for a few seconds. No joke on TV could be that funny.

"Right... Anyway, Rico, nice cup of Joe. What's the secret ingredient?" At this even Private had to laugh. Rico, however laughed so hard he fell backwards off his chair. Skipper looked down at his coffee. Inside was a fish! Skipper didn't know whether to be amused or furious. The team had obviously attempted to play a trick on their senior officer, yet his coffee did taste pretty good. In the end he decided to go for the default and just glare at him.


	11. Romance and Deadly Traps

"How many more of these traps do you have to check?" Marlene asked. Skipper looked up from the motion sensor he was testing.

"57. I know I'm taking a while, but I didn't want to risk sending Kowalski in here. He'd probably try to sneak in his 'new and improved' versions which, believe me, you don't want in your house." Skipper replied.

"Are they really that bad?"

"I get more life threatening injury's from Kowalski's inventions than I get from missions." Marlene cast a glance over the various pieces of insanely complicated electronic equipment. Technically, she wasn't supposed to be watching this, it's all pretty top secret, but Skipper didn't kick her out, so she didn't leave. It was hard to describe how she felt around him. On one hand, she enjoyed his company, while on the other, it was infuriating to fight back some of the emotions he felt for him. It was more than obvious he wasn't over her and, unfortunately, she found that undeniably cute.

"Marlene, can you pass me the ammeter?" Skipper asked not even looking up from the circuits he was testing. Marlene reached into the tool kit, pulled out the device then began to walk towards Skipper.

"Marlene, don't activate the...!" Skipper shouted but it was too late, Marlene had already stepped in front of the sensor.

Skipper hadn't even had time to think before he grabbed Marlene by the arm, pulling her out of the way and into his arms, as hundreds of tiny, poisonus darts hit the wall, where she'd been standing only seconds before.

"I…!" Marlene stuttered.

"Happens to Private all the time." Skipper replied. Their faces were only inches away from each other.

"Skipper…" Their lips met in a gentle kiss, though it seemed, to Marlene, to take hours for them to travel the few inches between them. They could deny their feelings no longer.

* * *

Antonio walked towards the house, having just returned from the recording studio, when he noticed two people out of the corner of his eye. He turned around, looking through the window into the living room.

"Marlene?"

* * *

"How'd the recording session go?" Marlene asked entering the living room.

"Good. We're nearly done." He replyed, his voice wavered slightly.

"Is anything wrong?"

"I don't know. Is there?" Marlene sat down in one of the chairs, turning to face him, "What do you think of the Penguins?"

"Antonio, that's a code name, you shouldn't say it out loud." Marlene chided. Antonio shook his head sadly.

"That's beside the point. What do you think of them?"

"Well, Private's a sweet kid, always has been. Kowalski, well, he's Kowalski. Nice guy, a little awkward around people, but good in a friend in need situation. Rico, frankly, scares me…"

"What about their leader?"

"Skipper?"

"Do they have another one I don't know about?"

"Antonio, what's gotten into you?" Antonio just looked at her, his eyes betraying his emotions.

"I know how you feel about him. I knew how you feel about him even before I met him. It was obvious. You always talked of his daring exploits…"

"Well it's not every day you meet someone with a job like his. I mean, is there a country in this planet he hasn't gone to? Kowalski's even mentioned that he's petitioning his boss to go to the moon."

"…I tried to deny it," Antonio continued, ignoring her excuses, "I wanted to believe I was the one you cared about," Antonio stood up and began to pace the room angrily, "But I'm not, am it." He turned around. Marlene wilted under his accusing gaze.

"I tried, Antonio. I tried to be a good wife, I tried to ignore him, but he's in the house across the street for god's sake!" Marlene looked down at her feet, trying to blink back the tears in her eyes, "I married you, because I thought if I tried to convince myself hard enough, I'd forget him. Actually, I half expected him to be dead by now."

"You kissed him, Marlene. I watched you kiss him through the window. In our… in my own house, you kissed another man." Antonio's words dripped with venom and sadness. It was clear how much he loved her, and how much it hurt him to find she had betrayed that love.

"I never wanted you to find out like this. I planned to tell you, that… I don't love you. I…" the room was silent for what seemed like an eternity.

"You want a divorce." The words cut through the silence like a knife.

"Antonio…"

"Just say you love me," Antonio pleaded, "Just say it's me you love and not him."

"Then I'd be lying." Antonio took one last look at the woman he once loved, before opening the door and stepping out into the rain. He had an appointment to keep.


	12. The Spear is Thrown, War Has Begun

"You were right." Antonio admitted, dejectedly to the person hidden in the shadows of the dark alley in which they stood. It was just them. Both sides had gone to great lengths to make sure it was.

"Of course I was. Now, are you going to do as I instructed?" The person, hidden in shadow replied with an air of confidence.

"I'll do anything to get her back. I…"

"Then follow my instructions to the letter."

Doris watch the trees go by from the window of the train. She and Dalia were the only ones in the carriage. Outside both doors linking the carriage to the rest of the train were two guards, and all the other doors were locked. Apart from the guards, they were the only ones on the train. It was dark outside, the only light coming from the occasional house they passed. It had been a few days since Skipper had put them on the plane back to the states, supposedly being returned home, but they both knew they weren't. They just weren't openly called prisoners for diplomatic reasons, they were simply being 'escorted'. The train pulled into a small clapboard station. Doris could see the lights of a house a couple of miles off. She could imagine a family inside, probably having dinner, the kids talking about what they did at school, and the adults what they did at work. Such a simple world, yet she longed to be like that family. What did she care for the five star hotels in exotic locations, all paid for by her brother's ill-gotten gains. It wasn't her fault her brother was an international criminal. Why did she have to be treated like she was somehow responsible for her brother's actions? Outside the door Doris could hear voices ,muffled but just audible.

"Why's the train stopping?" one voice shouted at another.

"Security said we weren't supposed to stop for anything." someone else accused.

"Why won't the engineer pick up his radio?" a third asked. Doris had a feeling she knew why.

"Hey, what do you think your…" The guard was silenced by a blast of machine gun fire. Immediately the place was swarming with lobsters, in their distinctive red combat armour.

"Tiger, Nancy Cat, secure the prisoners!" Someone shouted. Two men rushed into the carriage, and Doris and her sister found themselves hauled to their feet.

"Prisoners secured, Lion. I repeat, prisoners…" Doris screamed as blood and brains were sprayed across her face. The man who had been holding her dropped to the floor, dead. Doris tore herself from his ridged grasp, she saw Dalia's captor had suffered the same fate.

"Doris, Dalia, I'm so glad you're safe!" Blowhole lowered the gun he'd used to kill the two agents, rushing towards his two sisters.

"Little B…!"

Geert hugged his aunt, as she cried.

"Why'd he kill him?" She choked through tears, "Hans was only a policy maker. Why would an American agent kill him?" Geert bit his lip. He couldn't tell her what his uncle really did for a living.

"I don't know." Geert took one last look at the headstone before beginning to lead his aunt towards the car, then he whispered, more to himself than to her, "But I swear he will pay."

"So someone finally knocked off the Puffin." Arnold 'rat king' Scavenger shook his head sadly. He had grey hair, prematurely so as a result of the various experiment's conducted on him years ago, and wore a grey t-shirt and tattered jeans. He was sitting on a flimsy wooden table in the poorly lit cellar Geert had chosen for the meeting.

"Ssssuch a shhhhame." Savio hissed, his wiry form made him look weaker than the more muscular Rat King seated nearby, but this would be deceptive. He had resigned from his job at the law firm, he had kept up the practice of wearing a tailored business suit to any 'job'. He was just, if not far more, deadly.

"Never worked with anyone more professional than Hans and the Puffins." Barry paced the room, twirling a vial of some toxic substance between his figures. Barry was one of the youngest in the room, but he had certainly grown up fast. He specialised in rare toxins and prided himself on concealing so many about his bright red and blue clothing, that he was literally deadly to the touch.

"I called all of you here," Geert entered the room, "because I'm going to need your help if I'm going to avenge his death."

"Why do you neeeed usssss? I'd have thought you more than capable of eliminating Moon Cat Maxsssss." Savio asked.

"If you heard it was Moon Cat you'd better get a new source. Skipper got him." The room fell silent. All that could be heard was the sound of water dripping from a leaking pipe.

"You mean, the Penguin team leader?" Barry asked nervously, breaking the silence. Geert nodded grimly.

"Yes. I intend to make sure he pays." If it hadn't been for the serious tone in his voice nobody would have taking him seriously.

"Geert, I respected Hans, and I want his killer to pay, but you'd have to be crazy to go after Skipper and those guys," Rat King stood up, walking towards the door.

"We can do it." Geert replied confidently. Rat King turned around, shaking his head as he would to a naive child who had suggested that they break out of Hoboken Max by asking the warden if they could leave, with an extra pretty please.

"Kid, I'm all for your cause, but how are we even supposed to find the guy?" Rat King resumed his course towards the door.

"So you're a coward." Geert's words echoed through the underground room. Rat King turned around, glaring.

"I'd never pass up a chance to teach that penguin some manners, but we all know it's suicide to attack them on their home turf," Rat King looked around the room. Everyone knew he was speaking the truth, but he still didn't like being called a coward, "How about this: If you can find him, I'm with you." Rat King doubted Geert would ever be able to find the team. They were

"They're in Spain. A suburban home, across from Antonio Fernandez's," The room once again, fell silent, "So, are you with me?"

"How'd you…?" Barry gasped. Geert smiled.

"Trade secret."

Kowalski knew who the letter was from before he opened it, though he still checked for fingerprints and other trace evidence. He knew there wouldn't be any. Kowalski opened the letter after gathering the evidence for the tests he was certain would come up blank. Inside was a single sheet of paper. In the centre of the sheet, typed in 12pt type, Times New Roman, was, "two days, second floor." The results came through. Unusually, the letter was not free of evidence, as they usually were. The note, was completely lacking in any evidence. The envelope however, was more promising. The sounds of his lab, bubbling beakers, whirring machines, the hum of the computer's fan drowned away as he leant back in his chair, and began to digest the clues. The inside of the envelope contained four sets of clear prints. He checked them against the data base. The prints belonged to, this couldn't be right… The prints belonged to: Burt Bernard, a civilian, Philip Urwin and Mason Elwood, two more civilians, and Alexander Lionel, also known as Alex the Lion, a well-known actor. Kowalski had known them all at some point or another, and couldn't believe they could have anything to do with this. The paper came from Archie and sons, an office stationary company. However this was not unusual, Archie and sons supplied the stationary for most businesses; Kowalski had even used that type of paper when he worked at JulianTech. The letter still had a stamp, though it was hand delivered. However, the stamp was not American, as he had expected, but Spanish. Underneath the stamp was a single hair. Once analysed it was found that the hair belonged to a lemur catta, or ring tailed lemur. Kowalski had figured it out. He then burned the letter then deleted, and overwrote the data concerning it.

**The clues are all there, if you think you can work out who sent the letter and it's mysterious message.**


	13. Let's Play Guess the Evil Mastermind

Antonio knocked on the door. Cautiously, it opened.

"Wha' oo want?" the man behind the door asked.

"I want to talk. To Skipper." Antonio replied. Rico glared at him suspiciously, thought this wasn't unusual. Rico was cautious of anyone he hadn't really met before.

"Why oo wan' talk oo Ipper?" Antonio bit his lip. That was a difficult question to answer. Fortunately, Rico moved aside when he received a gentle tap on the shoulder from his leader.

"It's personal, Rico," The tone in Skipper's voice made it clear this was a command. Rico retreated back to the living area, "What would you like to talk about, Mr Fernandez?" Skipper asked, though he was already quite sure of the answer.

"Marlene told me every inch of this house is bugged. I'm not sure it would be good idea to have our conversation recorded on tape." Skipper nodded. He certainly wouldn't want Kowalski getting his hands on that recording.

"I bugged your house too. Where do we suggest we talk?"

"I thought you would feel safer at one of your own places. Still, there is a warehouse in the industrial district. My label uses it to store CD's. I've arranged for it to be empty."

Antonio unlocked the grey cement building, the corrugated metal door creaking on rusted hinges. Skipper stepped inside, switching on the lights. The door slammed shut and locked behind him. Bang. A bullet whizzed past his ear. Skipper whirled around to face Antonio.

"That was a warning shot. Now, toss me your gun and cell phone." Antonio smiled victoriously.

"Are you crazy?" Skipper returned.

"In a way. I'm in love. Now toss me the weapon." Skipper reached into the pocket of his jacket, "Stop. Take the whole jacket off." Skipper cursed under his breath. He had planned to grab the gun and shoot Antonio's before he shot him. It was one of the moves he was well known for, as well as the corkscrew. He tossed the coat at his captor.

"For someone who's supposedly a pacifist, you act a lot like a professional. Who sent you? Blowhole? The Rats? Svendsen?" Skipper smiled sarcastically, "Oh wait, I killed him. Your wife may have told you about this, but I was unarmed. Just like I am now."

"Now that you assume I am under the impression you are unarmed, you are attempting to intimidate me. Give me a chance to back out while I still can. After that you will go for the second gun you keep in the shoulder holster under your shirt," Antonio stepped behind a crate, using it as cover, the gun still trained on him, "Now pass me that gun. By the way, these crates are filled with steel girders. If you shoot at me, you have just as good a chance of it ricocheting and hitting yourself. After that I want you to remove the knife you keep sewn into the sleeve of your shirt, your left shoe, since you keep a radio in there, and the small piece of glass you plan to pocket when you bend down to remove your shoe."

"How the hell did you know all that?!"

"I'll start from the beginning if you'll take a seat on that crate over there and keep your hands in plain sight. We'll be here a few hours so make yourself comfortable."

* * *

Kowalski poked his head into the living room. Private was watching the lunicorns and Rico was blowing something up. He often wondered what the neighbours thought they were doing, and how many complaints the local police station got about the random explosions at all hours of the night. That was one of the benefits for working for Penguin. The local police often had orders to ignore any complaints made against you and to send you strait out the back door, no questions asked, if you managed to get yourself arrested. Kowalski quickly darted across the open door, making sure neither Rico nor Private would look his way. He didn't want anyone to see him. He quickly scribbled a note on a piece of paper giving some mundane excuse for his absence. Quietly, he opened the door, slipped out, and then locked it behind him.

"I guess this is how Skipper feels when he goes on solo missions." He muttered as he started the car. The short drive to JulianTech Spanish corporate headquarters felt like it took a million years.

"Well done, Kowalski. You figured it out." Kowalski glared at the person across from him.

"I must confess you had me baffled for a few seconds, but I soon figured it out," Kowalski replied, a touch of arrogance in his voice, " The hair came from a lemur catta. Common name: ring tailed lemur. That's Skipper's nickname for Julian King. So of course I assumed you wanted to meet at the head offices in New York. After all, where else would one find Julian King. But then I saw the stamp. It was Spanish. The stamp wasn't necessary, as the letter was hand delivered, so it had to be a clue. Obviously, you wanted me to go to the Spanish head office."

"Very clever. I never doubted that you would figure it out." The two figures faced each other in the conference room on the second floor of the JulianTech headquarters, "And you managed to figure out what the fingerprints meant?"

"Naturally…"

* * *

"I thought you said Skipper was in that house?" Barry asked, still twiddling a vial of toxic chemicals concealed in his pocket. Geert looked up from the wheel of the car.

"His team is, but he's not. My associate informed me that he is currently in a warehouse in the industrial district. As Rat King said, it would be suicide to attack him head on, with his team." Geert replied. Rat King nodded. Over the last few days he had gained a sort of grudging respect for the young Dane.

"It doessssnt ssssound very ssssssporting, or interesssssting to ssssssssshoot a sssssssitting duck." Savio pointed out.

"My uncle was 'sporting'" Geert replied grimly, "Now he's dead. There's no sportsmanship in revenge." The car fell silent.

* * *

"Kowalski allowed Skipper to send you away, didn't he?" Blowhole asked, though the question was more of the rhetorical type. He and his sisters scouted the exterior of the HQ from the top floor of the building next to the Fernandez's. A piñata stuffed with hundred euro notes had given him the house for the afternoon, no questions asked.

"Well… yes, but he had no choice. Skipper had sent me to the airport before he'd even…" Doris began to explain.

"But he did let you go. He didn't do something like, I don't know, hack the system so you were transferred back?" Blowhole interrupted sarcastically, "Now, Clemson, he was a nice young fellow. I remember when the lair was raided and you were taken to an interrogation facility as a suspect. He did not stop trying to rescue you for two weeks…"

"And Kowalski was the one who secured her release," Dalia interrupted. During the course of the journey, her memories had slowly returned, leaving her with bits and pieces. She understood that Kowalski only had eyes for Doris, so now felt it her duty to make sure nothing went wrong between them. It would seem Dalia had more of a conscience than her sister.

"Doris," Blowhole shook his head, exasperated, "My point is this, Kowalski obviously isn't into you. I'm sure a few weeks after the funeral, you'll be over him. Why don't you just let me kill him, and go date a nice, _evil_, guy. You notice my emphasis on the word EVIL."

"Little B, I will not let you…"

"Doris, I am going to have my revenge no matter what the state of your decrepit love life," He pulled a radio out of his pocket, "Red ones. Attack."

**I know this is short notice, but I'm pretty desperate to start on some of the other stories, so if you want to have your say on my next stories, I'm closing my poll Monday evening GMT (UK time). **


	14. The Woman In The Shadows

"Naturally. You take the first letter of every last name, so: B, U, E, L." Kowalski answered. The room's other occupant smiled, much as one would to a child who had just discovered that 2x2=4.

"And?" The person in the shadows replied.

"It's an anagram. When you rearrange them they spell: Blue." Once again the other person nodded, smiling slightly. Kowalski was pretty sure he was being mocked.

"Ah yes, you remember when I got that code name. We were in Australia, weren't we," She sighed. This time, Kowalski was unsure of weather he was being mocked or not, "I always wondered why the nickname 'blue' meant you had red hair, over there. I don't really have time to look up etymologies anymore." The femme fatale smiled, running a hand through her red hair. She fluttered her eyelashes teasingly. Kowalski looked down at the clipboard he had produced seemingly from mid-air.

"We were there on business. Everything I did was done because it was my duty, ex-agent Blue Hen," Kowalski looked up from his clipboard cautiously, "Like I said, I knew it was you even before I opened the letter. Who else would it never occur to, to not use some cryptic mind game to arrange a meeting."

"I have, I just found it boring." Kowalski's haste to change the subject was not lost on the Blue Hen.

"So I'm guessing you've got Skipper."

"You just worked that out?" She raised an eyebrow. Kowalski was beginning to get annoyed. Did she ever say something that didn't mock him on one way shape of form. That was probably why it never would have worked between them. A conversation with her reminded him a bit too much of high school.

"No. I just figured there was nothing I could do. It normally doesn't work out too well to try to fight your little mind games. No, I was better off seeing what you wanted."

"Top marks, Kowalski, top marks. It would seem you are not, in fact, doomed to constantly repeat yourself."

"So what's the scheme this time?"

"Well, as you may have guessed, our love sick puppy was kind enough to keep Skipper contained, for the time being…"

_ Skipper sat down on the wooden crate, half expecting steel cables with a mind of their own or lasers to snap out of the sides of the crate like in some spy movie. The way his day was going, it actually broke the pattern when nothing happened._

_"Like I said when we first met, Marlene's told me a lot about you. In fact, she never stopped talking about you," Antonio began, never taking his eyes off his captive for a second. Less than a second with his guard down would be more than enough time for Skipper to disarm him, "I think you can guess just how jealous of you that made me. Still, I wasn't sure if that was simply because being kidnapped by spies was the most exciting thing that had happened to her…"_

_"Agents." Skipper grumbled. He might be unable to escape, at this point in time, but he could find fault in almost everything said. It was childish, but what the hell._

_"Whatever. Anyway, I suspected that she might have still loved you. Then, a few months ago, I was approached by my benefactor, who for the purposes of anonymity, I shall call X. You understand."_

_"Perfectly," Skipper replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Antonio either didn't notice or didn't care, because he continued on regardless._

_"Somehow, she had discovered my problem, and wished to help. Naturally, of course, I found her knowledge of my personal life disturbing, but slowly my curiosity grew, and I accepted the offer. X set things up, so that it would seem my life was threatened by Blowhole…"_

"You managed to hack Blowhole's system?" Kowalski asked, attempting to hide the surprise in his voice.

"I didn't need to. Not when I had a seriously confused amnesiac, who was just perfect for manipulating. I simply told her that unless she added a certain file to the copy of Blowhole's files she gave you, which was, of course, my idea, you would be framed for some heinous crime that would prevent the two of you from being together." Kowalski's right hand formed a fist. How dare she… But he held himself back. There was nothing to be gained through brute force.

_"…That was, of course, the best way, she told me, to lure you here. It was then when I discovered my fears were not groundless. That was when I realised that the only way I was going to get Marlene back, was if you were… missing in action."_

_"Let me guess, your mysterious benefactor told you that. You naive fool, don't you know when you're being used?" Skipper chuckled dryly. Antonio shook his head stubbornly._

_"No, it was entirely my decision."_

_"You think it is, but it's not. People like your 'benefactor', the kind of people I fight, they have it all planned out. I know, cause it's happened to me. They always give you the choice, they say they only want what's best for you, but they're really isn't any choice. They know what you're going to do before you do it." Skipper shook his head, with real sadness. He'd seen this happen so many times. It was pretty much the story of Doris' life. _

_"Actually, the night I saw you kissing my wife, I was so angry… shall we say I was going to storm into your little castle and kill you. But X stopped me. She reminded me, despite my rage, that I would not succeed. In fact, it would only give you the excuse to have me sent to jail, thus leaving Marlene to you. No, she told me, I had to catch you unawares, away from your team. She then taught me all about you, your methods, where you keep your weapons, what you were most likely to do when faced with an attacker."_

"Antonio, poor thing," Blue Hen's voice dripped with false sympathy, "He would do anything to win Marlene's heart. He was just too easy."

"How'd you recruit him?"

"How do I always?"

"You pick someone the victim would have reason to trust. It's normally a doctor, or a lawyer, a police officer or an… an agent…"

"Agent Henrietta Blue, I didn't think anyone would notice if I borrowed one of Skipper's ex's identities for a while, had heard of his plight and wanted to help. I suppose he just couldn't resist a kindred spirit," The Blue Hen looked at her watch, "You know, Antonio's pretty free with his words, despite the fact I told him not to disclose my identity. Skipper's probably just starting to figure it out around now."

_"Thanks for narrowing the suspects down to about three." Skipper realised, like most victims, he wasn't going to listen to reason. His next best bet would be to get him angry, increase the probability of him making a mistake._

_"I'm sorry Skipper. I never wanted too… Anyway, half an hour, the building site next door will start laying the foundations. X told me, that I was to kill you then, as the noise would cover the gunshot and I would be able to dispose of you in the cement." This got Skipper thinking. It didn't make sense. The warehouse was isolated enough, why didn't he just shoot him. This 'benefactor' was obviously up to something, and Antonio was just a pawn in a much bigger game. Still, Antonio wasn't particularly stable, and might realise this and decide to disobey his X's orders and shoot him now._

_"You know, If I go MIA, she'll probably love me more in death than in life. A brave soldier who selflessly lost his life in the name of duty." Skipper had found a chink in Antonio's psychological armour. Still, it was risky…_

_"I…" Antonio stuttered. He'd never considered that._

_"No matter what you do, dead or alive, she loves me. Have you considered what my death would do to her? Also, I'm a pretty high level agent with the penguins, if I disappear, you'll have the best investigators in the world on my case. There's a pretty decent chance they'll work out just what you did. Even if they don't, your mysterious benefactor might just give you up, if it means saving her own skin." Skipper argued. This was going better than he could have possibly hoped. Antonio's knowledge of his habits and weapons had originally had him spooked, but when he ignored that, he never really believed Antonio would kill him. Under all that passion, he was a pretty decent guy._

_"I don't care if I'm caught." _

_"I'm sure Marlene will love you so much after she finds out you murdered me." Skipper replied sarcastically._

"Skipper's had experience with your victim's before," Kowalski growled. It always hurt him to see how many people the Blue Hen would ruin, for, sometimes, extremely trivial goals, "He'll talk some reason into him."

"I knew he would." Her words hit Kowalski like a ton of bricks. He should have known! Blue Hen never left something like that to chance. She often knew more about the people involved in her little schemes better than they knew themselves.

"Oh mackerel…"

"Yes Kowalski, it's all part of the plan."


	15. Pick Up the Fish

The Blue Hen switched on the projector. "I want you to see this," She smiled, like a fox that just sighted its prey, "I think you'll find it… entertaining." The screen seemed to be showing live CCTV footage of a warehouse.

The gun dropped to the floor. Immediately Skipper charged forward, grabbing it and his jacket. He pulled out the radio in his shoe, "Private?... Where's Kowalski... Out getting groceries, ok… Yeah I'm down at the docks… I'm gonna need a lift… thanks." Antonio sat down on one of the crates.

"I…" Antonio stared off into space. Skipper pocketed the weapon and picked up his jacket, before sitting down beside Antonio on one of the crates. This wasn't the first time he'd seen this happen, "I nearly…"

"Not likely. I just wanted to see what you'd do. I could have disarmed you at any point." Skipper lied.

"I should have let go," Antonio looked up at Skipper, "I can't make her love me."

"I wish you'd realised that a couple of months ago. Now, just who is this anonymous benefactor? Rhonda? The Badger sisters?" Skipper demanded.

"No. Not any of them, at least I don't think. Everyone called her…" Antonio was interrupted when the door smashed in, and a single shot was fired.

Suddenly Antonio fell forward off the crate, as if some invisible person behind him had pushed him over. Blood began to pool on the floor. Skipper looked up at the attacker. "You're going to pay for what you did to my uncle!" Geert spat, slowly walking towards Skipper. Immediately the trapped agent went for his gun. Bang. Skipper clutched his bleeding hand, the gun several meters away. The kid was good, he'd managed to shoot his hand before he could get his gun.

"What are you talking about." Skipper winced. Geert strode forward, followed by three other men.

"Don't be sssstupid," Savio hissed, "You know what you did."

"It was me or him! I had no choice!" Skipper defended desperately.

"Self defence is not an excuse for cold blooded murder." Rat King replied.

"Last I checked that was what got you off last time I hauled you into court," Skipper replied sarcastically. Skipper stumbled backwards, reeling from the powerful punch he had been dealt by the hypocritical criminal. He had barely recovered when he was overcome with a sudden burning feeling, starting at his left elbow, and quickly spreading through his body.

"Remember me?" a familiar voice taunted. He looked beside him to see a short, colourfully dressed man, holding a small broken glass vial, "This won't kill you, but it hurts like hell." Skipper could feel the pain spreading, as if someone had changed his blood to acid. His legs became jelly, and he collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain.

"May I?" Savio asked taking a switchblade out of his pocket. Geert looked down at his captive, a look of pure hatred on his face, "Be my guest. I want him to suffer as much as possible before I kill him." Skipper found himself wondering if he'd looked like that to Hans just before he killed him. In his right hand, though he now could barely feel it, he still clutched the radio. Mustering a last bit of will, he held down the transmit button. The team would probably pick up what was going on, and rescue him, hopefully before Antonio bled out.

"They aren't going to hear him," Blue Hen taunted. Kowalski stared at the screen helplessly. Skipper was miles away; there was nothing he could do, "An associate is keeping them busy."

"I'm guessing that associate is Blowhole." Kowalski already knew the answer to that question. Dalia was the only card he knew the Blue Hen had, but hadn't really played. Having Dalia, gave her complete control over Blowhole.

"Obviously. I normally don't go to the trouble of manipulating someone for no reason unless I'm bored. Anyway, since there's nothing you can do about it, I'll tell you the schedule," she opened another window revealing what looked like a very complex time table, "Two minutes ago, Blowhole attacked your friends, keeping them busy enough that they won't be able to pick up Skipper's distress call. Now, considering the ratio of lobsters to penguins, I say your friends have about half an hour to live. Skipper has a bit longer, though depends on how much pain he can take. I give him about an hour." The screen returned to the live footage of the warehouse.

"So what kind of horrific fate have you got planned for me?" He asked. The Blue Hen smiled.

"For you? Nothing." She replied. Kowalski frowned as if he'd misheard, "That's right. Absolutely nothing. If you want I can spell it for you."

"Why?" Kowalski's voice was barely a whisper. She was right there was nothing he could do. The images horrified him, yet he couldn't tear his eyes from the screen.

"I didn't think intellect could deteriorate, but yours seemingly has. Oh well, it should be back to scratch in a few years." That was when he realised.

"You aren't…"

"It's all for you, Kowalski," She replied, "We can be together now."

"Look, Blue, I never loved you. I only did what I did, because it was my duty." Kowalski backed towards the door.

"You'll learn to love me. It might take some time, but I'm patient. Now that your friends are dead, you have no one left but me." Kowalski made a dive for the door. He didn't care that it was scientifically impossible to reach any of his teammates in time, but he had to try. Metal blast doors slammed down in front of him.

"You're crazy." He shouted. Blue Hen's face contorted into a scowl.

"Never call me crazy, Kowalski," She snarled, "I'm not crazy."

Skipper felt himself being hauled to his feet. The world seemed to be in duplicates and tinged with red, but he could see the tray of fish being Geert was holding infront of him.

"Let's fish fight." Geert was already holding a fish. A salmon, "Don't worry, I won't attack while your guard was down." Geert was going to kill him like he killed Hans, the moment he picked up that fish. Skipper did nothing, keeping his expression defiant. Savio took the blood stained knife out of his pocket. He screamed in pain as he felt Savio's knife embed itself in his arm, "Let's start from the beginning," Geert ordered, "I'm sure he'll want to pick up the fish after we've done that a few times."


	16. Doris Forgot Her Bag

**Two Minutes Ago**

"Red ones. Attack." Blowhole ordered. He stood up, grappling gun in hand; ready to lead the assault on the penguin HQ, when Doris grabbed his arm.

"Little B, I left my bag in the tank." She looked up at her brother, "And I left my gun in my bag." Blowhole rolled his eyes.

"Fine," He pulled the radio out of his pocket, "Stand down, Doris forgot her bag," He turned to Doris, "Alright, you can go and get it, but be quick." Dalia muffled a sigh of relief. She'd followed the Blue Hen's instructions, grudgingly, all the while hoping something would happen to upset the plan she had been forced into setting in motion.

"Alright, I'm back." Doris returned to her place beside her brother, carrying her bag.

"Alright, red ones, now you can attack." Blowhole ordered into his radio.

Blowhole crashed through the windows of the top floor. He checked the room was clear, before opening the door and checking the hall. That was also clear. He rushed down the stairs, checking the kitchen, laboratory, and storage closets in the same manner. There was only one room left: the living room. The penguins had to be in there, probably to make their final stand.

"All teams, converge on the living room," He ordered.

"Little B, do we really have to…"

"Shut up Doris," Blowhole interrupted, before making his way towards the living room himself. The door between there and the kitchen was shut. Blowhole listened at the door for a few seconds. No sound. They must be hiding or planning an ambush. Suddenly, Blowhole took a few steps backwards and kicked the unlocked door open. The room was empty.

**One Minute Ago**

"Rico, don't you think Kowalski's taking a long time to come back from the supermarket?" Private asked. Suddenly, the radio in Rico's backpack crackled to life.

_"You murdered my uncle, Skipper. That's not something I'm going to let go unpunished,"_ An unfamiliar voice with a slight Danish accent spoke in a deadly calm voice. This was followed by a scream of pain, which both team member's recognised as belonging to Skipper, and the sound of a metal object hitting flesh and bone. Instantly the two men were on their feet.

"Where's it coming from, Rico?" Private asked. All their radios contained a tracer signal.

"Wa'house." Rico replied. Rico grabbed his knapsack and the two rushed towards the back door. Kowalski had taken the car, but they knew Mr Raphael, next door, parked his car in the small street behind the house. It was quiet enough that, hopefully, nobody would see them steal the car.

* * *

Skipper had to admit, the fish was starting to look pretty tempting. He coughed, surprised by the copper tasting liquid in his mouth. That wasn't good.

"You know, this can all stop, if you would just pick up the fish." Geert offered sadistically. Skipper managed to raise his head a few degrees to look at the man.

"Is… that… what… cough… you consider… cough cough… pain?" Skipper taunted. Geert grabbed him by his hair, slamming his face into the cement floor.

"I think we need to start again." Skipper didn't know how much more of this he could take. Still, he wasn't going to give in. He'd rather wait till they got bored and shattered his spine or something like that. No, if he was going to die, he wasn't going to give his killers the satisfaction of playing along with their sick game. Skipper began to realise just how right Marlene was about revenge; he would probably be doing the same thing to Geert if their revenges were reversed.

Kaboom! The door flew a good few feet away from the door frame as the he whole room shuddered with the force of the explosion. "What the kipper?!" Geert exclaimed, turning around. The dust from the explosion had barely begun to clear when three small round spheres, no bigger than a ping pong ball rolled across the floor, "My benefactor said the other penguins would be kept busy!" Geert was interrupted when the spheres exploded, an impossible amount of smoke gushing out, filling the room.

"Rat King, I'm over here! Geert's just…!" Barry panicked. Thud. One down, three to go.

"Sssssso, It would sssseem sssssssomeone hasssss been kind enough to volunteer themsssselves to be an appetisssssssser," Savio hissed, wandering blindly through the smoke. Crash. Two left.

"Stop hiding in the smoke and…" Rat king ran blindly into a wall, knocking himself out. A few seconds later, Private yelped in pain.

"Found you." Geert growled, as his hand collided with another person. The young Dane fought wildly in the smoke hoping to land another lucky punch, but he was fighting blind. Private, who wasn't, hit him first.

"Skippah!" Private shouted, the two men ran towards their leader, as the smoke began to dissipate, "Skippah, what happened to you?" Rico pulled a first aid kit out of his backpack.

"Antonio… cough." Skipper pointed weakly to the other man lying at the foot of one of the crates. Rico removed a roll of bandages from the bag, "That was…" Skipper was interrupted by a fit of coughing, "… an order."

* * *

"How could?!... What?!... Impossible!" The Blue Hen stuttered, staring at the footage being projected onto the wall.

"You never anticipated the fact that Doris would forget her bag," Kowalski smiled triumphantly, "Tisk, tisk, a whole minute off timing. Shameful." The Blue Hen closed the window displaying the footage.

"I still have you. My plan hasn't…" the Blue Hen collapsed to the floor, this being the result of the chair Kowalski was holding like a baseball bat, colliding with her head.

"Now why didn't I think of doing that earlier?" Kowalski smiled, sitting down at the computer. It was going to be a long wait before the team discovered he was missing and followed his tracer signal. He considered trying to contact the team with the laptop, but they had more pressing matters to deal with, and Private would probably ignore it thinking it was another of the Blue Hen's tricks. Oh well, he could keep himself occupied reading through the ex-agent's files.

* * *

Rico raised the gun to Geert's head.

"Don't." Skipper objected. Rico turned around.

"'orry." Rico handed Skipper the weapon. What had he been thinking? Of course Skipper should receive the honour of exacting revenge against the men who'd almost killed him.

"No Rico, don't kill them. Let's let the revenges stop here." Skipper replied. Rico looked like he'd been hit by a truck.

"'irls." Rico muttered walking away. As soon as a girl got into your life, even the toughest soldier would start thinking of ridiculous things like the value of human life and other people's feelings, at least, that was a bad thing in Rico's opinion.

"What was that?" Skipper asked, though his glare lacked its usual fire.

"N'thing."


	17. I Quit

"S… Skipper?" Antonio coughed. Skipper turned around. The wounded man was resting on Skipper's folded jacket, a bloody bandage across his chest. He was shivering, his skin pale and his eyes unfocused. Skipper wasn't in the best shape himself, though certainly better than Antonio, and was propped up against a pile of crates, his wounds bandaged.

"Hey, everything's going to be fine. You're going to make it." Skipper encouraged, attempting a smile. Antonio shook his head, but winced.

"No I'm not…" He smiled weakly, "Marlene…"

"You're going to make it." Skipper stated, with more force. The Penguin simply couldn't accept the fact the man would die, especially because, deep down, it was what he wanted. If Antonio died, he and Marlene could be together. Skipper forced that thought back into the depths of his mind. How could he think that way?! It wasn't right.

"…You two make a good couple… cough..." Antonio's eyelids flickered. Skipper, as much as he denied it, knew Antonio wasn't going to make it. Rico had told him early on that the bullet had shattered inside his body damaging several major organs; there was no amount of bandages or surgery that would save him. Still, Skipper couldn't accept that. If he died, well, in a twisted way, he'd get his wish, but he'd never feel right being with Marlene. He could argue that it wasn't his fault Antonio was dying, but he was the one who'd dragged Antonio, into his world. A world, where anything, normally the worst case scenario, could happen. He'd been nothing but trouble to the man, whose only crime was loving his wife too much, "…don't tell her… don't tell her I'm dead…"

"She deserves to know…" Skipper protested. It was the least he could do. Antonio deserved to be remembered; he was a casualty of war. His war.

"No. She'd… blame herself… tell her…" Skipper opened his mouth to contest this, but in the end could find no good argument. Antonio was right, Marlene would think it was her fault, "Keep… promise you'll keep her… safe." There was a pause in the conversation. Antonio had just asked him the one favour he couldn't grant. But could he tell that to the dying man?

"I can't not with my job…" Skipper forced the words out of his mouth before he could talk himself out of it. Antonio wasn't stupid, he'd work it out, even in the short amount of time he had left.

"That was… cough… an orde…" Antonio never finished his sentence, but Skipper knew what he meant. It was both an order, as he said, and a gesture of gratitude. Gratitude for, at least trying, to save his life.

* * *

"You what?!" Rockgut exclaimed.

"I want to retire." Skipper replied.

"You want to retire!? You're in your twenties!"

"If you read the handbook, they don't actually set a minimum retirement age."

"In fifteen minutes there will!" He shouted, before muttering, "When I find the idiot who left out the minimum retirement age…"

"So, can I start on the paperwork?" Skipper asked.

"You are not going to retire!" Rockgut shouted, "According to the handbook, yes you can retire, but Skipper, you're our best operative! Why do you even want to retire?"

"I'm getting married."

"We can offer her protection."

"From Blowhole? I can't stay home all the time, not in less you let me retire." Skipper was starting to get the feeling Rico was going to get to say 'I told you so'.

"Skipper, it's not really my decision; I let you retire, you spend the rest of your life under surveillance, if they don't decide to make certain you are kept quiet. That's right, Skipper. Someone your age, and with your record retires, they think you've joined Blowhole. They think you've joined Blowhole, you're dead. Your fiancée too."

"What if I told you I'd been stealing marshmallows from the mess hall since I was a cadet? Would I get a dishonourable discharge?"

"No. We'd just make sure you were never allowed near the mess hall unattended."

"Top secret documents?"

"You are a traitor, therefore you are dead."

"Kowalski was stealing classified documents, and I was negligent enough not to notice?"

"You're psych test says you're paranoid, bordering on delusional. I really don't believe that."

"Private?"

"N-O R-E-T-I-R-E-M-E-N-T!" Rockgut spelled out, banging his hand on the desk with every letter, for extra emphasis. Skipper waited for him to calm down, "How about this, you go back to your girl and tell her she can have you when you're fifty."

"The penguin division statistics say nobody but you has made it past forty."

"Fine, you can quit when you're dead, but you aren't retiring."

"I 'ol' oo so." Rico smirked. Skipper rolled his eyes. Rico had a point.

"Alright Kowalski, can you give me some other options?"

"You could actually go over to Blowhole's side…" Kowalski suggested, waiting for the inevitable slap.

"No can do," skipper slapped his lieutenant across the face, "I'm shocked you'd even think of such a thing!"

"Well, apart from that…"

"Don't tell me you're…"

"Out of options? Yes."

"I don't suppose you guys could try deserting or something?" Marlene asked.

"Then we'd have both sides after us." Skipper replied sharply. The room fell silent.


	18. One Day, He Didn't Make It Back

_"…In my job, we take a lot of risks. I don't want to be the one to break your heart, when one day... I don't make it back…"_

The rain pelted the deck of the USS Alice. Technically, Marlene wasn't supposed to be aboard, since the ship was deployed, but Rockgut managed to sneak her in. After all, it was his fault Skipper died; well, indirectly. For now, they weren't sure who started the fire, but they were certain it was arson. Even in mourning, Marlene was beautiful, even in mourning, her chestnut brown hair tied back from her face in a louse bun. She wore a louse fitting black dress, it was summer after all, and a raincoat of the same colour was draped over her shoulders.

_"There's nothing you can do!" the fireman shouted. Skipper stared at the blazing house, pushing himself through to the front of the crowd, showing his badge to anyone who tried to stop him, "You can't go in there! It's too dangerous!" The fireman warned, when Skipper continued to advance._

_"Trying to stop me is what's too dangerous!" Skipper tossed the burly fireman over his shoulder, and he and his team charged into the burning house._

_Marlene screamed a burning chunk of the ceiling smashed through the floor in front of her. Sparks flew, and Marlene backed further into the corner. The heat __was becoming unbearable, and she could barely breathe through the smoke. It wouldn't be long before she passed out. _

"… and so we commit to the deep, one Skipper (real name classified)… Lieutenant Kowalski… Private (real name classified) and sergeant Rico…" All that was left of the team, was Skipper's hollow tooth, containing a charred cyanide capsule. Still, according to the investigators, it made sense that nothing more of them remained, considering their position inside the house. They were probably crushed when the escape tunnels collapsed, the one part of the house they were unable to investigate, in the interests of keeping the team's cover. Somehow, the remote detonator system activated, and the entire system was vaporized.

_"Marlene!" Skipper screamed, once again, catching sight of the choking woman, through the flames, "Marlene!" Skipper took a fire proof blanket from Rico, and ran directly into the fire, smothering them with the blanket, before tossing the smouldering fabric away, completely oblivious of the burns resulting from such a reckless course of action. The team followed suit. That was when the roof began to collapse, burning hot chunks of timber and tile, blocking the exit._

"You have my condolences, Mrs Skipper…"

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs Skipper…" the voices blended together in her mind. They were all saying the same thing. Mrs Skipper. Nobody knew her husband's real name, they always used the last name Henderson, but everyone in the intelligence community knew that was one of his many aliases. Even when she asked on their wedding day, the answer to 'so, what _is_ your name?" was still: "Classified."

_"Toss her out the window Skipper!" Kowalski shouted._

_"Are you crazy?!" Skipper replied._

_"We're only on the second floor." _

_"Don't…!" Marlene screamed, looking down at the drop below her as skipper held her up to the window._

_"Get a net, NOW!" skipper commanded. Thankfully, there was one handy. Skipper tossed the girl out the window, just in time, as only a few seconds later, a pile of burning debris crashed down, blocking off the window._

Skipper had run into the building after her. That was something Marlene felt was both touching, and infuriating. Only Skipper, well, and his team, would be stupid enough to enter the burning building. That was one of the things about him Marlene wasn't sure if she liked or not. His unshakeable courage was well, courageous, but dangerous. How could they possibly live any form of normal life, if he insisted on doing something crazily heroic every time he spotted any kind of danger? It was if he didn't understand the meaning of the word: retreat.

_"SKIPPER!" Marlene screamed hysterically. She turned to the fireman beside her, "What are you waiting for, they're still in there!"_

_"It's too dangerous to send anyone in after them." The fireman replied grimly. Sure enough, only a few seconds later, the front of the building collapsed inward, "All we can do is prevent the fire from spreading."_

* * *

"I didn't really know why they attacked me, if that's what you mean," Fred stated.

"Alright, why don't you describe what happened." Rockgut replied, exasperated. Just his luck the only witness to the attack wasn't even sure what he meant by attack.

"Well, I was walking back to my house, my grandma, she's staying at my place for the week, wanted me to fetched the groceries. She was gonna make a casserole. You know, my grandma makes the best casserole, she normally serves it with acorn bread…"

"The attack?"

"What attack?"

"The one that happened this morning."

"Oh, yeah. That one. Well I'm not really sure if it was an attack…"

"Would you please tell me about it?"

"Well, like I said, I was comin' home with my groceries, when suddenly, I realised that my feet weren't on the floor. At first I thought , "why am I flyin'?" But then I realised, I wasn't flying, there was some guy in a crazy falcon suit, and he was flying. Well, he carries me up to the top of this building, the Cardboard Algorithm Building, or something like that…"

"Do you mean the Consolidated Amalgamated Building?"

"Yeah, that one… I think. Anyway it was really high up. Then, he tries to put me in this box attached to this kite-thingy…what did he call it? Falcon glider, that was it. So he's about to put me in there, and these four guys come out of the roof entrance from inside the building. And the weird falcon guy turns around, looking like he'd seen a ghost or something. Then one of the guys, pulls a net out of his backpack, and throws it at the falcon guy. Then one of the guys, tall guy, holding something…"

"Holding something?"

"Yeah, I think it was piece of wood, helps me up. Then like that, they're all gone. The only reason I know I didn't make it up, was the glider was still there."

"So how did you managed to fall off the edge of the building?"

"Buildings have edges? Cause I was just walking, and then the floor disappeared. It was kinda like one of those amusement park rides, but then I landed on this platform thing. That really hurt. Why do they put platforms on the sides of buildings…?"

"Thank you for your time, Mr Squirrel." Fred stood up, and walked towards the door, reflected off the mirror in the interrogation room.

"Stupid door! Why isn't it…"

"Try the other door." Rockgut suggested. Fred walked towards the real door, and miraculously, opened it.

"Thanks." Fred called over his sholder as he left the room.

"The guy's nut's," an aid, who'd been present for the interview commented, "So, we gonna actually investigate this thing? I mean, how did a case like this even make it to Penguin division?" Rockgut stood up from his chair, deep in thought.

"Was there any security footage of those four rescuers?" Rockgut asked.

"No sir, all the cameras in that area went haywire during the 15 minutes during which Mr Squirrel claimed this happened," the man replied more formally, recognising his senior's disapproving expression, "Apart from his statement there's nothing to suggest those four men exist…"

"You don't say…" Rockgut muttered.

"Do you want me to run a check on the surrounding cameras?"

"No, don't bother. He probably just made it up." Rockgut replied, an amused look on his face.

"Are you sure sir?"

"I'm sure," Rockgut stood up from his chair, making his way towards the door, "You won't find anything."


	19. The End

**I wrote this extra very short chapter to absolutely confirm that the team is alive. So far, I don't think I'll be doing a third story, but that's not final.**

**Software Update**

"Kowalski's ALIVE!" MORT screamed.

"We are trying to be doing de sleeping MORT!" Julian King shouted angrily, poking his head out of his bedroom.

"But King Julian, Kowalski is a… MORT systems: powering off."

"Thank you Maurice!" Julian shouted, before switching off the light and returning to bed.

"What was it you wanted sir?" Maurice yawned, poking his head out of his bedroom adjoining the kitchen. There was no reply; Julian was fast asleep, "Must have been dreaming'." Maurice muttered, returning to the kitchen to fix himself a snack.

"Software update installation: successful," MORT announced, his screen lighting up, "Anti feet protocols: activated."

"Kowalski, you idiot!" skipper shouted.

"Sorry Skipper, but MORT's update was some of my best work. It took me over two years to perfect! I just had to test it…"

"You could have ruined everything!"

**Escape via Escape Tunnels**

_"Give me some options." Skipper ordered, surprisingly calm, now that Marlene was safe._

_"Escape tunnel, 15, sir," Kowalski kicked down a section of wall, which crumbled easily, since it wasn't really part of the wall. Inside was a concrete staircase, leading down to the network of tunnels that had already been built by Rockgut, even before the team arrived at the house. The team rushed down the concrete structure, safe from the fire, but burning hot. Skipper stopped, then walked back to the edge of the stairs. He removed the hollow tooth that contained his cyanide capsule._

_"Skipper, this is not a good time to commit suicide!" Kowalski shouted up the stairs. Skipper tossed the tooth out of the window, making sure it landed only a few inches from the house, where debris falling from the windows was already collecting. Skipper raced after the others, down and into the escape tunnels._

_"What were you doing?" Kowalski asked, as they neared the exit._

_"Making sure I'm dead. Rockgut should recognise the tooth; just outside the house it should be covered with enough debris to not look planted, yet be easily found." Skipper replied as they cleared the escape tunnels._

_"Why would you want too… oh…" Kowalski turned slightly pink. He wasn't sure what was more embarrassing, the fact that his leader was motivated by romance, or that he hadn't worked it out, "I suppose Blowhole will give up on trying to kill you and your loved ones now that… I get it."_

_"Rico, remote detonator." Skipper ordered. Rico pulled the small object out of his backpack._

_"Kaboom?!"_

_"Knock yourself out."_

_"NO! You have to go after them!" Marlene screamed at the fireman, tending to her burns, "They might still be alive!"_

_"Ma'am, I'm sorry but…"_

_"You can't give up! I…" Marlene glanced over the man's shoulder to see four figures emerging from the bushes, "Skipper…" Frantically, the man motioned for her to be quiet. _

_"See you later." He whispered, before disappearing off into the bushes._

_"Ma'am?" The fireman was puzzled by Marlene's strange behaviour._

_"Sorry?"_

_"You said something?"_

_"Oh, um nothing."_

**That's Classified**

"So what is you real name?" Marlene asked, her head resting against her husband's sholder as the credits on the film they'd just watched scrolled down the TV screen.

"Marlene, you know what I'm going to say…" Skipper sighed.

"Really?! All the crazy stuff you did, I mean seriously, you 'died' for me, and I don't get to know your real name? Seriously, what is your real name?"

"That's classified."

The End


End file.
